


Passion And Trial

by CallenAmakuni



Series: Patience And Time [2]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Frozen 2 (Disney Movies)
Genre: Banter, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Canon Rewrite, Elsa Has Ice Powers (Disney), F/M, Frozen 2 (2019) Spoilers, Gen, Ice, Ice Powers, Movie: Frozen 2 (2019), Original Character(s), Romance, Snow and Ice, Soul-Searching, Until Frozen II, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26181232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallenAmakuni/pseuds/CallenAmakuni
Summary: “I believe you know who I am. And I know who you are, Snow Queen. What I would like to know, is what took you so long…”When a mysterious call thunders over the horizon and a decades-old war resurfaces from the depths of an ancient forest, Elsa and Anna seek answers that may turn the tide against the coming storm.-Frozen II rewrite. Arc II of Patience and Time.
Relationships: Anna & Elsa (Disney), Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Elsa (Disney)/Original Male Character(s), Elsa/OC, Icebros - Relationship, Snow Sisters - Relationship
Series: Patience And Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848547
Comments: 11
Kudos: 16





	1. Passion

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Happy to see you again! And earlier than expected too, by a few days!
> 
> This an exceptional one, all the others ANs will be at the end and way shorter. I know it's not always interesting but please take the time to read this, it will detail my aim with this fic.
> 
> The theme for this first chapter (and main theme for the entire fic) is Believe by Two Steps From Hell. Yup, them again. If you're wondering why it's not the movie's OST directly, I have an explanation.
> 
> So.
> 
> Frozen II.
> 
> We have to talk about it.
> 
> TLDR: One of the best Disney sequels I saw, a decent movie on its own, but I'm not a fan of it.
> 
> It didn't rock me as the first did, but I didn't expect it to do that. However, I think it tried to do too much. It handled mature themes, and that's commendable. But I feel like they didn't go as far as they could; they barely grazed everything, didn't delve into anything.
> 
> I'm not saying they did a bad job (except for Kristoff, poor boi); they poured their passion -heheseewhatIdidthere- into that movie, the documentary shows it, and for that alone they have my utmost respect. But I think they didn't tell the story they wanted to tell. Not the entire story anyway.
> 
> This is my attempt at telling that story. Frozen II, as I think it could've happened. A lot of stuff is going to change, so I wouldn't take the movie as a comparison point. You're gonna tell me, "of course, it's not going to be the same, Garret exists!" and you wouldn't be wrong. But the fact that he has powers is something I thought about for a long time and didn't choose lightly.
> 
> What I want to do is more than just jamming my OC in there and calling it a day. Nor reprise scenes from the movie word for word. I want to add something, and that means changing things. I'll incorporate deleted scenes, or just the purpose of those scenes, and some of my own headcanons to fit those changes better.
> 
> This will thus respect the movie's messages as much as possible while tweaking what I think needs tweaking.
> 
> I think this chapter alone showcases what I'm talking about enough for you to get the gist of it. Core concepts and ideas are there, but with a PaT twist.
> 
> I have the outline and a few chapters ready for editing already, but I can't promise to keep a schedule. Unlike for Arc I, I will be working while releasing this Arc, so it's going to be a 'when it's ready and I'm satisfied with it' basis.
> 
> I apologize in advance, but I really can't risk promising something only not to deliver on it later on.
> 
> Just so we're clear; I'm not saying this is a better story than Frozen II. Just a different but similar one.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll like it. If you wanna share your thoughts with me, whatever they are, you are more than welcome :D.
> 
> This is Arc II of Patience And Time: Passion and Trial.

* * *

The only thing heavier than the quiver on her back was the weight of the silence around them. Not a single crack, not a single squeal. The arrow was dangling at the tip of her fingers, flying between her phalanges with quick spins.

The projected shadows of the tree branches above them provided a decent cover. They were well-hidden and could see well enough. The scent of humid soil titillated her nose, the warm glint of the red leaves above her head dividing the little light that reached the forest from the sky into carmine patches over the no less cardinal canopy under them. The bright shine made it very difficult not to simply stop to enjoy the scenery.

But she had a job to do. The tribe needed food.

She concentrated on her target, harnessing the years and years of training into that simple pull of her bow's string. She felt every single imperfection on the thin line, the feathers around the little wooden stripe she used for her finger's comfort, the force of the bow as it resisted her own strength arching it backward.

The end of her arrow tickled her cheek, a familiar touch that weighted as comfortingly against her as her father's hand. She took her time, found her mark.

The deer interrupted its grazing, its ears alert. It had heard something.

It was too late. The arrow was loose. But she had been fast enough to correct its trajectory.

The projectile flew with its recognizable whistle, though her ears perceived a strange variation in its simple symphony of death. Like a duplicate.

The deer jumped into the thickets at its right, exactly where she had predicted. It disappeared from sight, and she couldn't tell if the thud she heard was its body collapsing or her own foot slipping forward from the bow's momentum.

They would have to go check.

"Did you hit it?" that annoying blob of a brother said from behind her.

Honeymaren huffed in annoyance. Why did he have to be so loud?

"Shhhh! If I didn't, you'll scare it away," she murmured, her finger jumping to her lips.

Ryder stared at her with those big blank eyes. "If you didn't, the arrow scared it anyway. Assuming it just decided to jump because it felt like it."

"I…" She hated it when he was a smartass. But despite being an ass, he was smart. Sometimes. "Fair point. But shut it still."

She motioned for him to follow her and to prepare his knife. These parts of the woods were relatively safe from the invaders, but she wasn't one to toy with security. They had gotten bold.

"Quietly or I'll tear you a new one," she felt the need to add in a hushed hurry when he opened his mouth.

They crouched even lower and crawled through the high grass, the blades of green scraping quietly against her leather boots. Under her feet, the uneven ground flattened with each of her steps. She even caught a scarab scurrying away, fleeing the path of the giantess that she was to him.

The few yards they crossed appeared longer the more they approached the calm thicket of leaves. Honeymaren traversed the last inches and shouldered a way through the twigs and sprigs.

The deer was there, on the ground, kicking the void. The arrow had struck under the withers, just above the heart. Honeymaren winced. The feeble animal was going through excruciating pain. The muffled sigh at her back reminded her that Ryder was there and that he had a knife with him. She could end the poor beast's suffering.

Her hand shot up to pinch his nose and was immediately met with the sheath that housed the cold and steely blade. She twirled it in her hand and readied herself. She had done it once before; she could do it again. She felt the twitches and trembles as her hand ran over skin. She hated how soft the flesh felt under her fingers, palpitating and pulsing rapidly. How frail the creature looked as she released a gargling and throaty bleat.

The heart was easy to reach. If only her own would stop beating so fast.

She raised her arm, prayed to the spirits and to Laib Olmai, and plunged the blade.

The deer stiffened, exhaled, and joined the planes of the ancestors.

Honeymaren gently caressed the animal's fur and breathed steadily.

 _Thank you_.

Hunting deer was a measure fueled by despair. The Northuldra avoided it as much as they could. But the mist had taken a progressive toll on the tribe; growing plants and crops without as much as half the sun they used to get was a task that had proven more and more complicated. Keeping everyone fed now required them to go after larger prey until the sky returned.

Or so she was told. The idea that there was once a fiery ball of pure light above was still as foreign an idea to her as ever.

As she pulled the blade back from the deer's carcass, Honeymaren caught with the corner of her eye a silvery glint that shone inside the mounds of still-warm flesh. Her finger went to it on instinct and reeled back instantly when a stinging pain surged through it.

She delicately sucked on the end of her finger and examined the strange intrusive object. The pointy end of a needle had nothing to do inside a deer, did it?

Approaching closer, she finally understood, and the blood drained out of her face. She was looking at the head of an arrow, embedded in the animal's left side. No, not an arrow. _A crossbow's quarrel._

"Maren…?" her brother's voice called out.

She stood up, her heart racing even faster inside her chest. "Ryder, we're not alone."

His hand squeezed her shoulder. It was shaking.

"I noticed."

She lifted her head to where he was looking.

A few feet in front of her, there were three of them. They never took out those Crocus shaped emblems off their green and purple vests. She had seen a few already, even fought one or two. An acidic rancor rose in her throat.

The one on the far right raised a crossbow at her brother.

_Cowardly bastards. Can't even use their own strength to fire._

She drew on her own weapon but repressed the urge to jump at them to slice and shoot her way out.

"This one is ours," she clamored, instilling as much venom in her voice as she could.

The first Arendellian, a tall dark-skinned man with an even taller pole up his ass drilled into her with his eyes.

"We struck it down. I'm afraid I'll have to contest that affirmation," he said.

Honeymaren stepped in between Ryder and the armed quarrel. "Our arrow hit it too. It's our word against yours."

The Arendellian sighed. "Sergeant. Lower your weapon."

The man with the crossbow looked a bit younger, but not by much. His eyes grew larger at the other's words. "Lieutenant?"

The Lieutenant's deeper voice turned steely. "Do it, Karl. It's an order."

Honeymaren met Karl's sullen scowl with her own glare. The man blew a strand of his grey-marred blond hair away from his face. The green of his eyes shone with contained anger, but he reluctantly put his now uncocked crossbow back on his hip.

The Lieutenant nodded appreciatively and turned to the third squadmate. Her hand drifted away from her sword's hilt without any word shared between them.

"Now," he said, bringing his focus back to Honeymaren. "We don't want to fight over this, but we need it. Our resources are scarce, we could use the meat."

"That's cute," Honeymaren said. "So, we just give you our hunt, is that it?"

"I'm not saying to give it up to us. Maybe we can trade you for it. What do you want?"

Ryder sneered at them. "What do you have we'd need more of? We're all stocked up on perfidy and corruption."

Karl's voice rose from his Lieutenant's side. "Go to hell!"

The anger started welling inside Honeymaren's chest. "Want us to say anything to your king while we're at it?"

"That's it!" Karl's hand flew to his crossbow once more, and her own snapped to her bow in anticipated retaliation. "In the name of King Runeard and King Agnarr, you _will_ give—"

"Stand down, Sergeant."

"But, Matti—"

" _Stand. Down,"_ the Lieutenant boomed. The slight frown on his face didn't sell the fury that had oozed through his tone enough. Karl cowered under the thunderous order. The silence that filled the air felt even heavier now that the last echoes of his voice had vanished.

The younger sergeant threw one last glance at Ryder and her before stepping back with a quiet, "Yes, sir."

The taller man stared back at her. "If we're done with petty insults and meaningless bickering—"

Ryder clicked his tongue. "That's not just bickering, you heath—"

"I am _speaking_ , Northuldra."

Ryder audibly gulped, and despite the vivid despise she sensed in her entrails towards that treacherous lot, Honeymaren understood him. He was an enemy, but that Lieutenant knew how to command respect.

"It seems we both need the meat. As you aptly put it, it's your word against ours," the intruder continued after clearing his throat. "Since there's no way of knowing who struck first, I suggest we take a half each."

"I suppose you want us to take the half that's all bones and crap, right?"

He sighed again. "You got to it first. You get to choose which half you want to take with you. That thing has to be around 250 pounds. I know how much that will be."

Honeymaren tried to keep her surprise in check. Not only did he accurately estimate the animal's weight without touching it, but his proposal put him and his men at a clear disadvantage. What was he up to?

"What's stopping us from leaving _you_ with the bones and crap?"

He clasped his hands in his back. Honeymaren was a keen observer, but even she almost missed how his cheeks slightly slumped, how his eyes glazed, how his nose quickly twitched. He was worried.

"I'll… I choose to believe that you will act with honor. Keep in mind that…we have children too."

"So much for no fraternization among soldiers."

 _I don't think he's lying…_ Honeymaren thought. _They really are desperate for meat, huh?_

She then stood there, trying to come to a decision. Karl was still eyeing her with that same mixture of disgust and anger, each half of his face fighting to display one or the other in a pathetic dispute. The Lieutenant and the woman, however, stood at attention, waiting for her words.

She exchanged a fleeting glance with Ryder. The nervous half-shrug he gave her did not help at all. They were stuck in a rut. If they refused, they ran the risk of having to fight against three armed soldiers. She knew how to handle herself in combat, but Ryder was much less experienced. He was eager, and that made him stupid. Well, even more stupid than usual.

In hindsight, she didn't have much of a choice.

"Let's do that," she finally answered, and the Lieutenant's tense shoulders loosened up. "But your two merry ducklings go away. They can come back when we're done and out of here."

"There's no way—" Karl began.

"Deal," the Lieutenant said. "Sergeants, please go back to camp. I can handle bringing back the meat alone."

The woman at his right stepped forward in apparent worry. "But, sir… We can't leave you alone with them."

"And we can't go back empty-handed again, Liyana. Don't lose your head about me. Go. I'll join you shortly. It's an order."

Karl and Liyana saluted after another minute of silent observation. They glared in Honeymaren's direction one final time and disappeared behind their superior, the crunches of their boots fading away into the red forest's aloof and ominous quiet.

Honeymaren circled around the carcass. "Make yourself comfortable and have a seat there," she said as she pointed to a nearby rock. "Ryder, take this," she added while handing him the bow. "Fire if he tries anything funny."

The Lieutenant raised his hands and did as told under Ryder's watchful gaze.

Honeymaren then started dissecting the deer with cautious movements, carving through the flesh with her red-stained hands to extract whatever she could. She focused on the liver, kidneys and heart—her father had taught her the organs were the most nutritious parts of the animal—before handling the muscle tissue. She also made sure to leave some of the meatier parts for the intruder.

 _He can handle all the fatty stuff, though,_ she thought with a grin.

"You're Mattias, aren't you?" Honeymaren asked as she worked, lifting her eyes to meet his. "Yelena speaks of you."

He perked up and blinked in surprise. "I am."

"Well, Mattias. You hunt awfully close to us. Arendellians have a pretty lousy reputation around here. You know that under any other circumstances I would've fired on sight, right?"

He slumped back down. "Trust me, we wouldn't have come here if we had any other choice. But our lands—"

" _Our_ lands," she spat.

He met her angry stare before letting his gaze fall to the ground. "We've had a hard time. No crops will grow and the woods around us are empty. We knew it was a risk but we simply could not stand by. We delayed the hunt as much as we could."

"And you're trusting _us_ with such crucial info? Your three-decade-old enemies?"

"We're all in the same boat. I'm not telling you anything you don't already know."

"The spirits are getting back at you, war criminals," Ryder said.

"If I'm not mistaken, the spirits are getting back at you, respectful lot, too," Mattias fired back with a small smile.

Honeymaren found nothing to retort. The times were apparently tedious for everyone inside the forest.

"I must say," Mattias continued. "I thought you wouldn't have seen reason. I guess you're not all beyond common sense and honor."

"And I guess you're not all screaming harlots."

Mattias clicked his tongue. "Forgive Karl's brash manners. He's not taken well to your treason."

"Oh, it's _our_ treason, now," Ryder snarled. "We're the ones who feigned friendship and attempted to enslave your people too?"

"You murdered our king."

"Your king killed more of us than there are of you."

"There is no—"

Mattias's sentence was interrupted by a shudder of the air. The wind picked up in a burst of hot gale, bending the branches around them as if they were mere twigs. Something crept up Honeymaren's spine like a snake's vulpine hiss.

She turned around, and her gasp echoed with the two neighboring men's. Behind the tree, a horned silhouette stood tall, a breath of dense fog roiling around its gigantic mass. Two bright purple spots burned inside the dark shadow, peering onto them like a wolf on its prey.

"Is that… a horned bear?" Ryder's trembling voice murmured from behind her.

The silhouette took a step that shook the very earth. A scorching wave of heat passed by them.

"A bear isn't that big," Honeymaren and Mattias whispered back in unison.

The Arendellian rose from his seat and pulled a knife out of an interior pocket. Honeymaren glared at the concealed weapon before shaking her head. It was useless.

She liked to think that she was braver than the average twenty-something around the village, and that she had good survival instincts. There was one certitude those instincts were screaming into her ear: if they attempted to fight, they were going to die.

"Ryder, run," she said. "RUN. NOW!"

"GO FOR THE RIVER!" Mattias cried out.

The sound of Honeymaren's following shout was swallowed by the deafening roar of a firestorm.

* * *

Anna massaged the soles of her feet, releasing successive breaths to accompany the progressive relief she felt. The room was empty, save for the cushioned armchair just in front of the now extinguished fireplace. The materializing rays of sunshine that raced over it were formal: it needed a good clean-up. The faint musty smell was another clue she couldn't miss. But she needed to sit. And so she did.

Outside, she couldn't hear much beyond the crashing of the waves and the incessant hammering of the rain against the window. A couple of weeks before, chirping birds and squawking seagulls would swarm the castle's higher fleches all day long. Now, she was lucky if she heard one or two tweets in the morning.

Anna didn't like autumn. It was summer minus the sun, winter minus the snow, and spring minus the flowers. To make matters worse, the weather had been atrocious for the last few days.

She let her head drop on the padded edges of her seat, the groan that went past her lips sounding a lot more frustrated than she'd willingly acknowledge.

_No wonder Elsa didn't want me to come with her for this stuff. What a fantastic reunion of clowns._

She mentally grunted at how stone-headed her afternoon's interlocutors had been. But Anna had sworn to be at her sister's side no matter what, and that included diplomatic reunions—as stupid as they were most of the time.

The burning flames atop the candles on the marble counter swung with the opening of the door. Kristoff stepped inside with a wide grin, his hands full with a plate brimming with pastries.

"There you are, Princess."

She smiled back. "There you are, _Prince."_

"Looking for trouble now?" he asked with a playful tone. He sat on her arm's chair and kissed the cheek she extended toward him.

"No, I'm just anticipating the moment I get to see you in a black suit. I figure calling you that will make it happen faster."

"Yeah, definitely. Solid plan. It'll work. Eventually. Keep waiting." He put the plate on her outstretched legs while she giggled. "I thought you'd need a refreshment after all that, feisty pants."

"You should come to the receptions, you know? Get to know people and all that. But whatever. I'm too hungry to think about anything else right now," Anna cheerfully said before practically launching herself at the poor cookies. "Fankyoufodechocolatebybeway."

"I feel bad for them, now. Poor things. They never stood a chance."

Anna's enamored eyes searched for her companion's, but he avoided her gaze. Intrigued, she examined him a bit further. Kristoff was sweatier than usual—the faint glimmer of those candles shone on his forehead. His fingers twitched too.

"You okay?" she asked through a half-eaten cookie, a bizarre sense of confusion filling her mind.

He tugged at his collar. That wasn't a good sign. "Yeah, yeah…" he answered.

"You sure?" she insisted, arching an eyebrow.

He finally met her eye line. "Positive."

She swallowed, leaned closer to him and put a gentle hand over his. "You can tell me if anything's wrong, you know."

"Nothing's wrong, Anna. Really. Actually, I was with Sven, and we were just discussing how happy I was to be here."

Her heart melted at his words. She had feared that the world of royalty would make him uncomfortable. That the parties and meetings and conferences would not be his natural habitat. Even if he never actually went to any, he always assured that he liked them enough. Somehow.

"You are?"

"I am."

"You're not telling me that because you know that's _exactly_ what I wanted to hear?"

"Nuh-uh."

"And just so I can make sure I didn't have something in my ear. You're happy here?"

Kristoff chuckled, let his shoulders fall and kissed her forehead. "I'm happy here, with you."

She threw herself at him and showered him in smooches she tried her hardest to make as loud as possible. He laughed under her; every single of his snickers sounded like music to her ears.

Anna pulled back, keeping her arms tightly knit around his neck. "You know I love you, right?"

He answered with a simple nod and a smile that was now much more confident. He didn't need to say it.

She gave him one final kiss on his nose and turned back to her plate with a content grin. Her kingdom, her sister, the love of her life… She had trouble wrapping her head around how perfect everything was. She liked the light and slightly euphoric trance she was living in every day.

If only Garret and Elsa would finally decide to do something _, anything_ about them _—_ after two years, she hadn't even caught them holding hands—there wouldn't have been anything to weigh on her.

Anna had managed to get Elsa to at least admit that they had talked about it. But nothing had been officialized. She couldn't shake the feeling that she hadn't been told everything.

"Those two…"

"Huh?"

"Garret and Elsa," she specified. "Can you believe them?"

"I—I—I think? What did they do again?"

"Ugh. Nothing. Forget it."

She'd told Elsa she should take her time. Surely she didn't need so much of it? Right?

 _Nothing's ever simple with that airhead, isn't it?_ she thought with a fond smile.

"Anna?" Kristoff called, his voice breaking.

She contained a laugh and faced him back.

"Yes, Kristoff?" she said, trying her best to replicate that squeak.

"Remember that time this love expert right here took you on a trip, and I told you I didn't trust your judgement? To this day I still wonder how I could."

Anna replied with a dreamy nod before shaking her head at the realization of what he had just said.

"Wait, what? You wonder how you could have come with me?

"What? No, that's not—"

Her mind raced and jumped from his words to the only possible conclusion. "And you still don't trust my judgment? You don't think I should've chosen you?"

He gave her a sharp shake of his head after a quick blank stare. "No! No, no, no. I mean at the time, I didn't, but now… I know you're not as naïve anymore…."

"But I'm still naïve?"

"…A bit. I mean, no. Kinda? That's not what I—"

Every single word of his was like a dagger through her stomach. His speech coupled with how nervous he had looked made her imagine the worst. "I'm not mature enough for you?"

"I—That's—Of course you are! This is getting way too confusing for something so obvio—"

"It's obvious that you don't want me anymore?"

The void swallowed her stomach, and the tears had already started dripping down her cheek. He stared at her with wide eyes and lifted two hands.

"All right. This is getting way out of control. I'm gonna stop here and start all over again." His fingers wiped the humid trail away from her face with a soft caress and he hugged her like he was afraid she'd slip away. "Of course, I want you, Anna. I couldn't have wished for anything better than to meet you," he said, the trembling of his voice ringing against her ear.

"Then, what are you getting at? You almost gave me a heart att—"

Her words hung in the air and her heart stopped when he pulled away and dropped on one knee, a golden gleam shining on the palm of his hand.

* * *

"Put it a bit higher. There you go."

"It's…a bit too hard."

"That's normal. Don't worry about the shaft for now. And don't try to slot it in, we'll come back to it later."

His hand drifted to where hers rested, the light brushes her skin felt as he adjusted her position making it a bit harder to breathe. He then gently lifted her outstretched arm, raising it by a few inches so that it would align with her shoulders.

"And where do I pull?" Elsa asked.

"Below the nock," Garret answered with a quick tap of his free hand on the bow's frame. "The little wooden thingy where you put the string, after the feathers." She tentatively looked for the little snick and asked for his approval with her eyes. "That's right."

He walked behind her, and his cheek grazed hers as he slightly bent forward, aligning himself with her eyesight as much as he could. She could almost inhale his perfume. The weight of his palm covering hers over the bow's handle felt natural, soothing, comforting.

She threw one quick look around: their surroundings were still empty.

"Nobody's coming, Elsa," Garret said, amusement plain to hear in his voice.

She gave him a feeble nod.

Going to the back of the barracks for her archery lessons had been a great idea. Not only were the premises already stocked full of weapons and practice targets, but more importantly, no one would come to see her; there would be no surprises.

Just her and Garret.

After a long day of political discussions and two receptions all in one afternoon, she needed the break.

Elsa sighed as she recalled the headache-inducing talks she had had to endure.

"The joys of arguing with anyone from the Isles of Batz are flooding back?" Garret asked with a chuckle.

Those envoys had been insistent on the one single point that didn't make any sense.

"I just can't with them anymore. They speak French, come from French territory, sail under a French flag, but somehow, they're not French? I was so done."

Anna suspected they used her own tactic against Elsa: they were feigning stupidity. Fortunately, she was well versed in detecting and deflecting that strategy. Elsa had let her wreck her own—much more subtle than usual—type of havoc. To great results.

"At least they were happy to leave. And you both secured a valuable corridor for our ships, now."

His use of _our_ made her heart jump in joy. He had had trouble finding a place among the Arendellians, but while he still considered himself British first and foremost, spending a month shy of two years in her homeland made him see himself as a part of it—something he had been the last to do.

He sometimes admitted thinking that making him her unofficial personal guard would stir up some protests, but he had gradually earned the kingdom's respect as Lieutenant and proven his worth. And even if he hadn't, Lieutenants were assigned to the royal family's security by tradition anyway.

She suppressed a content sigh. "Anna did all the heavy lifting, but yes. Hopefully, the next treaties aren't going to demand such diplomatic _pirouettes_."

"Your French is leaking."

"Oh spirits, I'm in too far now, aren't I?"

"I don't mind. The language is elegant; the exact opposite of its country. It suits you."

Elsa lightly tapped his shoulder and shook her head with a bashful grin. "You don't like the French, do you?"

"You can't be a citizen of Her Majesty's Empire if you don't poke fun at them now and again. It's practically law back there. _He who shall not desecrate the frogs will be treated as one._ Or something like that. It's just friendly rivalry more than anything. I met some of the kindest folk in France."

She released a few chuckles and concentrated back on her lesson.

Garret stood even closer behind her and she could now feel his breath on her cheek; she stiffened as he reviewed one last time her firing posture. He pulled away with a satisfied grunt, but his eyes told her that something wasn't quite right.

_Maybe I should have worn something a bit more adapted?_

The dress of purple and black had replaced her ice garb for quite some time now. While not as comfortable, Elsa had welcomed the change—creating the veil of crystal every morning and maintaining it throughout the day had quickly become a chore she had been happy to get rid of. Not without a few protests from Anna.

But was the problem really her dress? She risked a discreet look over her shoulder.

Garret was observing her with focus, his right index finger lightly tapping at his chin. His eyes flew from her feet to her shoulders, from her hands to the string nock above her head, from her hips to the bow's riser. He caught her looking at him and gave her that warm smile of his. Her gaze snapped back forward on instinct. She was certain she was going to blush.

She heard his muffled chortles emerge from behind her. "Sorry about the staring."

His voice was a lot deeper once more. The words made her suppress a shudder. They were different, lower, almost guttural. He did that sometimes, only when they were alone. What did it mean?

Elsa cleared her throat. "No—No harm intended. Am I ready?"

"Yes, that should do it," he said. "Keep it steady, you don't want to lose your stature."

She relaxed her shoulders and went over the steps to achieve a satisfactory stance. "So, chin up, elbow raised, feet perpendicular, and…"

"And?"

"…I'm thinking."

"I could guess that. Eyebrows."

She always had trouble with the sequence; for more than two dozen training sessions, she couldn't even get the first step right. She finally remembered the part she always left out. "Oh! Shoulder blades clamped. But everything else is relaxed."

Garret stepped in front of her, that smile still ever so glowing on his face. Now that his hair was shorter on the sides, his beam was a lot more brilliant. If only he agreed to get rid of that bang…

"That's it," he acknowledged with a quick appreciative nod. "Don't forget, this is the first time you're not using one made for children, and you don't have a clicker. When you pull, pull all the way. You won't be able to hold very long. Bring the string to your cheek, just enough that it brushes it. And be careful not to turn your head this way if you want to keep this pretty nose."

His finger came to that same nose and gave it a playful little press.

She couldn't _not_ smile, even if she was working hard at it. "Hey!"

That had gone out a lot higher than she'd thought. How did he do that to her?

He took a step back with a mischievous smile, letting her have enough room to move. "Now, whenever you feel ready, draw the arrow."

She breathed steadily, concentrating on her target. It looked farther now than it did a few seconds before.

_I can do this. It's only the… whatever-hundredth time._

Elsa inhaled and pulled. But the projectile, or the string, or the bow— _something_ , resisted. Was it normal? She pulled with all her strength, forgetting for a second that her shoulders were once again relaxed. As soon as they hardened back, the string bent before her eyes under the pressure of her muscles.

She understood why he had told her not to hold too long: she was already losing all feelings in her shoulders and guiding hand's fingers.

"Back, back, back," Garret encouraged. "Aaaaaand… Release!"

She let go of the string and closed her eyes in reflex. The fletching tickled her face as the shaft sped out on its trajectory with a swift fife. Elsa heard the blank noise of steel hitting wood and opened a single eyelid.

The arrow was on the target. Not at the exact dead center; inside one of the larger circles near the limits. But it had hit its mark. _For the first time._

She sought Garret and found him as she expected to find him: looking at her, his face brimming with pride.

"I did it…" was all she could say.

"Yes, you did."

She had a hard time believing it. "I fired an arrow, and it hit the target."

"Yes, it did."

The fiery expression of the realization rose and rose. It had _hit the target._ Elsa bit her lip to prevent herself from squealing in excitement, clapped Garret's open hand and waited until the heat left her cheeks before speaking again.

"It's… Such a strange feeling. To have this… surge! Honestly, this is… It's exhilarating! I understand why you chose the bow as your weap—"

She stopped when she threw a glance at her companion. He was still smiling, but the creases had disappeared, his eyes were a tiny bit hollower. And she realized why.

His tired moues had become very rare, and she had gotten a lot better at discerning when he was feeling the weight of his own mind. "I'm sorry," she said.

He perked up. "What are you apologizing for?"

"That was inconsiderate of me."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. I wouldn't be here with you if firing a few arrows made me uncomfortable."

"I know you…" she said, a tender smile growing on her lips as she stepped closer to him. She lifted a hand despite her soreness and caressed his clean-shaven cheek as gently as she could. "…and yes, you would."

The vibration of his laugh traversed her arm. "Flatterer."

She almost drowned into his eyes when the pain at the base of her arm grew too much. She let it fall and massaged it. "The shot hurt my shoulder, though. Is it supposed to hurt?"

"It is," Garret confirmed, crossing his arms. "This is the first time you actually shot an arrow with something that can be called a bow. It's hard even with a light one."

_This one was light?_

She'd read that bows were classified by their weight. Her curiosity got the better of her once more. "How heavy is the draw on this one?"

She handed him the wooden arc, and he pulled on the string like it was nothing. "I'd say about 20 pounds."

 _Oh. Heavier than I expected,_ Elsa thought, surprised at her own physical strength.

"What's the heaviest _you_ ever pulled?"

If something like pulling on that bow was like a breeze to him, she guessed he could go two, maybe three times heavier than she did?

Garret scratched his head. "Good question. I have to think about this." He summoned his own crystal-clear bow with a flick of his wrist and tugged at it with furrowed brows. She repressed a laugh at his definition of _think._ "Depends on how hard I tighten the pulleys, but I'd say I already fired at 150? I must average out at 120-130 pounds."

Almost. Eight. Times. Heavier.

Elsa gulped. She often forgot that he was a warrior.

"That's… a lot."

Garret simply shrugged in response, his ice bow disintegrating in a flurry of twinkling mist. "I've been training for this my whole life. And even knowing that, 150 is nothing stellar. Standard war bow weight. Don't get me started on those Chinese fellas. Bows aren't really the current fashion, but I was told some could pull 200 pounds back in the day. I tried 180 once."

"That sounds like an enormous endeavor for Garret the archer."

"No kidding. Guess what happened? I fe—"

"You fell over."

"—ll ove… All right, you do know me. Bottom line. Don't dwell on that too much. First, as I said, I trained for this. Second, it gets easier a lot quicker than you'd think. And third, and most importantly." He smiled and slightly leaned in her direction. "A heavy bow is useless if you miss."

Her eyebrow shot up on its own. "Why am I sensing a bit of arrow-gance in that sentence, Lieutenant Carter?" Elsa asked.

"Heh. Nice one," Garret complimented. "I'm just saying that if you ever need a good shot, your very own personal archer-guard doesn't need the heaviest bow on this continent to be effective."

Elsa dusted his shoulder and readjusted his uniform's collar. "I wonder if that archer-guard's worth the few _strings_ I pulled to give him that spot?"

"Oh, I guess there are a few _drawbacks_. Hope none are deal-breakers."

"It's fine. For now. But be careful, Lieutenant. I'm learning fast. I'll be a better shot than you in a few weeks."

"You're certainly getting cheekier."

"Bad influence," she said with a quick light-hearted shrug. "I learned from, arguably, the worst."

"And you're doing an incredible job. At archery jokes."

Elsa brought her finger to his nose and lightly pressed its tip in the same way he had done a few minutes earlier, his face turning crimson instantly. "I'm sure I do."

"Elsaaaaaa!"

Anna's booming cry startled them both. Elsa darted away from Garret, who threw the bow into a random rack behind him. They both summoned an ice lasso to pull the arrow away from the target just in time for Anna to appear at the top of the stairs, barreling down so fast Elsa wondered how she didn't stumble on her own feet.

Kristoff followed behind, managing a much more human-compatible speed.

Anna leaped over the last steps and dashed in front of Elsa, grabbing her hands in a crushing grip. "You won't believe this!"

"Please tell me you didn't just escape from another kidnapping?"

"No, why would I—wait, what are you doing here? Both of you, alone? In the barracks? At sunset?"

Elsa and Garret exchanged a quick glance and released a synchronous nervous laugh.

"Umm. We were checking out the boxes of ammunition…" Garret started.

"Yeah, there are two—"

"Three."

"—three ways they could be malfunctioning…"

"And since the rifles are new…"

"They could go all _boom_ on someone who doesn't know how to use them…"

"…we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?"

"And the kitchens, they would mind the noise—"

"—which would make the potato soup a bit too sour."

"And that would make us very cranky."

"There's that too, so yeah."

"Uh-huh. Like he said. Yeah."

"Sticking to it. Definitely."

Anna narrowed her eyes, falling into the most doubtful expression Elsa had ever seen on her. She observed them without a word for a very long minute while Kristoff joined them.

"You know the rule? _The intelligence of a group gets divided by the number of people in that group_? I think that applies to you two, but for lying. But nevermind, I'm not here for this," she said with a shrug and a wave. "Check this out," she squealed while jamming her left hand at her sister's face.

Only then did Elsa notice the golden glimmer on her finger.

"Is that a ring?"

"Yyyyyeeeees!"

"You proposed?" Elsa then asked Kristoff in disbelief.

"I did."

She turned back to her sister. Anna fidgeted on her spot while biting her lower lip, and Elsa had a feeling she knew what was going on in her mind.

She laughed lightly, stroked the princess's disheveled hair and took a look at her beaming visage, her soon-to-burst tears, her cheeks redder than the autumn sky outside.

Elsa also saw the way Kristoff's clasped hands lightly shook, how a few beads of sweat pearled on his face, but most importantly, how his eyes were focused not on the ground or herself, but on _Anna_.

She had seen that look somewhere else. Their father used to look at their mother with those exact same eyes.

And that was all she needed.

She exchanged one look with Garret. His enormous smile only added to her conviction.

Anna and Kristoff were still waiting for her to speak.

"I give you my blessing."

Anna hiccupped. "You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that," she managed through her now abundant tears.

She then threw herself around the much more radiant Elsa, enlacing her with such force that the poor queen had to let out a small grunt.

Garret extended a hand towards Kristoff. "Congratulations, mate."

"Thanks," Kristoff replied after a long sigh of relief, accepting the handshake with vigor.

Anna pulled away with another laugh and wiped her eyes with her forearm. "This might just be the second-best day of my life," she said, a few sniffles interweaving with her words.

"Not so fast," Elsa said, trying as much as she could to hold back her own crying. If her blurry vision was any indication, she was failing miserably. "We still have a wedding day to plan."


	2. Unknown

"Atchoooo!"

"Bless you."

"Thanks. Oh, the dust out here. Even the attic wasn't as dusty. Oh dear, here's another one. A-a-a-aaaaatchooo!"

"Bless you," Elsa said with a chuckle.

 _That was a strong one,_ she thought. _Wonder if she has allergies?_

She closed the door behind her, waving her hand before her face to send away the tiny particles that whirled about. The cellar wasn't the area of the castle that saw the most traffic, and it showed. The chamber's heavy atmosphere smelled like the musty harbor fish hangar, the one that had been left abandoned for a whole year—with the fish still inside.

Anna stopped before her and used her three mounted candles to explore the immediate vicinity.

"This is where they keep Father and Mother's stuff, huh?"

In front of them lay a large room filled to the brim with trinkets of no great interest for the most part. Open oak boxes the wood of which was starting to chip away on the right, a mannequin missing both arms and its head on the left, old decrepit cupboards that seemed to melt against the stones of the floor and walls... Even the cobwebs hanging at their corners seemed fossilized, deserted by spiders who had either left or starved to death.

But at the far back was a collection as motley as it was nostalgic.

Their mother's dresses and their father's suits were stored here and there in a myriad of boxes, around ceremonial swords and hats their mother had always known how to choose. The echo of their voices swerved past her ears, as if seeing their garments awakened the ghosts of their long-lost parents.

This wasn't Elsa's favorite room. Not by a long shot.

She had only entered it once before—the memories associated with most of the objects still hurt, even if the objects themselves didn't hold much value to her heart. This second time was only a product of her sister's excitement.

Anna did not seem to share her relative dislike for their surroundings: looking for the slightest trace of their mother's wedding dress was a task that had been obsessing her since the night before, when they had stumbled upon their marriage portrait.

"You're sure we can find it here?" Elsa asked, slightly stirring the oil lamp in her hand to light the eastern corner and allow her eyes to decipher an old statue's inscribing that looked like it dated back to her grandfather's reign.

"I am…" Anna answered with a grunt; the worn-out box she had lifted to the counter near the entrance looked heavy. "…positive," she finished as the wooden square fell on the stony post. The already fragile planks fractured at the contact and sliced open on their own, spilling their content before Anna's amused eyes. "Well, that saves me the trouble of getting a crowbar."

"You open boxes with a crowbar?"

"Only when I don't have my sword at hand."

"You are not carrying that thing around the castle, Anna. Not when you insist on drawing it every five seconds and cutting cake with it. You and your swords…"

Anna whirled around and lifted a disapproving finger. " _My_ sword, thank you very much. Blue is the only one for me."

"Still can't believe you gave it a name."

Anna had become, over the past two years, a formidable swordswoman. Einar had supervised her entire training and admitted that she was starting to give his best men a fair amount of trouble. Even Garret refused to spar with her now, since he wasn't allowed to use his bow.

Elsa had taken the opportunity offered by her 21st birthday—and Garret stealthily suggesting the idea—to commission her own personal sword.

The Damascus steel had been hard to find and expensive to buy, but the look of pure awe that had shone on Anna's features as her eyes ran the length of the waving teardrop-shaped patterns on the blade and the finely crafted stratified copper handle with its vividly azure ice crystals had been worth all the trouble.

Even Kristoff had been dazed by the magnificent weapon and accepted defeat in front of Elsa's smug look. This birthday had been her victory—not that it was a competition or anything.

"It's ma sword. I would sleep next to it if I could."

"Please, don't do that."

"I'm joking. You know I wouldn't. Kristoff takes up all the space anyway." Anna then started rummaging through the old rags and tattered tissues, throwing whatever wasn't a shiny white-and-blue tangle of crocus-flowered fabric over her shoulder without a second glance.

"You're sure you want to look like Mother for your wedding?"

"For the seventh time, Elsa, yes I want to. Or at least try to. Obviously not gonna wear the exact same dress, you know, just looking for some inspiration! Enough to give the tailor some ideas for the next weeks." She exhausted the first box's content and slumped her shoulders in disappointment. "Wrong one. Gonna try another. Can you look at that one while I'm at it? Please?"

She never could refuse anything when Anna did that thing with her nose. "The one against the wall?"

"Yup! Thanks, sis'."

Elsa delicately hung the oil lamp on a perch and kneeled near the coffer. This one was larger than the others. Its gilded corners gleamed in the faint light; their underlying brass having kept its original shine a small miracle in the general air's mustiness. The lock was still impeccably preserved, which meant that it had been placed there long after their parent's wedding.

Kai had assured her almost nobody had accessed this particular room ever since their boat was lost. Only her parents could have placed it there.

She tried to lift it, applying the counsel both Anna and Garret had given her; back straight, knees bent. But despite her best efforts, the coffer proved too heavy still. It almost seemed like it was glued to the ground. Their father loved his tinkering, maybe this was another of his wacky inventions?

Intrigued, Elsa grazed the wood with her fingers and ran them along the dulled surface. She suppressed a small cry when her hand sank inside a small gap with a quick click. The sound of rock sliding across rock drew her attention above her, where an opening that wasn't there a minute ago now was. Inside that opening, a lever. No indication as to what it did, what it opened, what it closed, or even if it moved at all.

"You okay there?" Anna's voice asked from behind; Elsa almost missed it.

"Yes. Um, come here for a minute, please."

Anna practically skipped at her side and abruptly stopped when the lever caught her eye. "What does it do?"

"I don't know."

"Won't ever unless we pull."

"Wait, Ann—"

Before Elsa could say anything about it, Anna's hand had already darted and lowered the mechanism. A metallic rumbling sprang from inside the wall; gears and cogs turned and twisted from the other side. Which meant that there was another side.

"You can't pull random levers like that, Anna… There may be traps, or contingencies to dissuade intruders."

"You read too many books, sis'. This is our own castle; I don't think anyone would put traps against us."

"Yes, but you're never…"

A portion of the wall before them cracked and bolted a few inches forward, startling them both. The dust above it raced away as it glided to the side, opening a passage large enough to let the two sisters pass.

"…too sure."

Elsa took the candles and held them at arm's length, trying to discern anything with worried eyes, while Anna obviously couldn't repress a loud _Woooow_. They took a simultaneous step inside.

"Look at all this," Elsa said as she swept the glow of her light all around.

Anna's mouth was wide open in aghast wonder. "I'm looking."

This was a secret room they had never heard about.

A collection of old and grimy bookshelves supporting older and grimier books circled around, casting a faint shadow over a marble table against the farthest wall, one single open volume over it. In the corner stood another bookshelf, completely full too, right next to an ashen chimney above which was dug an enormous hole containing dusty unlabeled flasks and old empty vials that seemed cast out of one of her own fantasy books. The ground was a messy mix of crumpled paper, coaly specks and stubborn mold.

"This is Father's old cane," Anna realized aloud, her finger tracing the length of the trusty wooden shaft hanging next to the door that only then Elsa noticed.

She lightly dropped the candles on the table at the center; Anna pressed forward and went to examine the furthest corners while trailing her gaze left and right, leaving Elsa to contemplate the series of innumerable grimoires at her side.

 _Where did they find all this?_ she thought.

Everything looked old. Judging by the creased yellowing of the pages, some of the volumes were most probably a few decades—if not outright a couple of centuries—old.

"These aren't books we can find in the library," Elsa said, her attention jumping from a title to its neighbor, not recognizing a single word. There was one book that raised her curiosity and drained her extremities of their blood. " _Magical Arts: Dangers of Dark Magic_? Father was studying magic?" she voiced her internal interrogations aloud, having trouble to believe he would have hidden his own work from her.

She turned to Anna; she was studying another coffer on the other side of the room and uttered a faint _Oh_ Elsa barely managed to hear. Before she could call her however, she perceived the glint of a quill and a feather on that same marble table. The giant open book had hidden them; the table reached deeper than she'd thought.

Behind that book was another one whose cover was a lot thicker, sealed shut by a leather belt that went around its full width as if muzzling forbidden knowledge. Elsa unbuckled its simple prong away from its tip and opened it. The muffled gasp that went past her lips had been too fast for her to suppress—not that it was her priority.

On the page were multiple drawings etched on the paper with a careful pen along with scriptures in English and in a language she couldn't read; in a small aside at the end of the text, the author referred to this unknown writing as Northeldrian. The sketch on the right page represented what she clearly recognized was her younger self's profile with what could only be the glittering traces of her magic emerging from her open hands. On the left were her gloves, and a captioned human hand over which purple shapes and bluish forms twirled and merged in an imprecise dance of colors.

"He was studying me, too?"

Anna's reaction was instantaneous. "Wait, what?"

Now, she had her attention. Elsa turned around and took a few steps, her eyes not leaving the mysterious writings.

"This is some sort of journal…" she explained. " _I can find no record of a human with powers like hers but for the ancient myths, with their tragic fates._ Well, Garret proves this sentence both wrong and right, I guess… _"_

"Wait a minute." Anna's voice was close to her ear; she was looking over Elsa's shoulder now, wearing a strange scarf over hers.

"What is that?"

Anna pointed toward the open coffer a few feet away. "I found it there. It's Mother's scarf, but with these strange diamond-shaped thingies on it. Speaking of Mother," she continued while lifting the journal in her direction. "This is not Father's handwriting, it's hers."

"The next pages are in English, but there's also, _Northeldrian_?"

"Northeldrian? Isn't that a forbidden language ever since the war? How could she know it? Or… even dare use it?"

Elsa shrugged in shared confusion. "Maybe it has to do with what they saw up North?"

"We have to look into the Last Arendellian War," they exclaimed at the same time.

Elsa then turned back to the English part. One paragraph was strange, structured like a poem. She started reading.

" _Whatever ev—_ " The word was hard to decipher. " _Evil, my people did…_ "

Anna picked up where she stopped. " _Whatever evil my people suffered…_ "

" _Whatever darkness still roams the forest…_ "

" _I can no longer turn my back on my past._ "

" _He already knows."_

_"We have to find it."_

" _I have to find Ahtohallan,_ " Elsa finished.

As soon as she did, a shiver ran through her entire body as wickedly as frost creeping down a window. It was the first time she'd ever seen that name, but it had a familiar ring.

And then she heard it.

A distant, crystalline chant. A voice that seemed so far yet so intimate. A feminine voice.

Elsa's back straightened like an armed spring and she shuddered harder than ever before; she threw frantic looks around her, charging magic inside her hands.

"You all right, Elsa?" Anna asked in evident worry.

"You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

She came to the realization while gazing upon the interrogative pout her sister was displaying.

_She's not hearing it._

"I think…"

_No need to make her worry more than necessary for now. Maybe Garret will know more?_

"Nevermind."

Anna narrowed her eyes at her for a second but eventually shrugged the bizarre interlude off.

The sisters exchanged one glance and understood each other.

"We can start at the library."

Again, they had spoken in perfect sync.

* * *

Garret loosened his spaulders and released a sigh while stepping inside the room. The red and gold tapestries on the walls and the lazy yet vibrant light tracing and diffracting from the chandelier above coupled with the stormy weather made for a warm and cozy atmosphere. He could finally relax.

There was one strange detail, however. Kristoff was the only one already inside, sitting on the sofa with legs crossed and a scowl while his hand negligently stroked Sven's fur. Olaf was on the latter's back, as per custom now, striking up conversations that sounded very much one-sided.

 _Weird,_ Garret thought. He usually was the last one to arrive at their game nights—Anna and Elsa were sticklers for punctuality.

"The girls aren't here yet?" he asked as he sat on the sofa's edge.

Kristoff's head whirled to him as if he hadn't heard him open the door. Or walk inside with his heavy boots. Or groan while unfastening his vest's belt.

"Oh, G! No, they're not here. I was waiting for you to go fetch them."

"I think you could have done that without me."

"That was the plan," Kristoff confirmed as he stood. "Leave and let you find this room empty."

"Fair point. You know where they are?"

"Yes, sir. Gimme a minute. Make yourself comfortable. Don't try to conscript Sven."

Garret slumped on the couch with a fake disappointed grunt. "Aww. We _just_ needed a combat reindeer. We were going to attach rifles to his antlers."

Sven arched slightly on his now stiffened legs and gave a troubled look to his master and friend just after a worried whinny.

Kristoff rolled his eyes. "He's kidding."

He opened the door and winked at his lifelong companion before leaving.

" _Mostly_ kidding," Garret added stealthily. He made a point to turn his head as slowly as possible in Sven's direction before raising his eyebrows repeatedly.

The reindeer responded with an annoyed breath from his nostrils that ruffled Garret's hair in all the wrong directions.

"Hah. Love you too."

Olaf dropped to the ground. "That's not what he said."

"Oh, really?"

"I'm sure."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"I don't speak reindeer as good as Kristoff and I don't know exactly what he meant, but that sounded more like 'scre—"

The door smashed open, a minuscule foot the only thing visible where it stood closed a second before. Kristoff made his way around it and sat next to Garret with a tired but still amused smile.

"Okay, I'm ready to destroy a few arrogant ones," Anna boomed on her way in. Her foot stomped on the ground and she jabbed a finger at Garret, Kristoff and Olaf. "Today, the girls win."

"Come here and show me, fire-head," Garret shot back.

A wicked predatory smirk spread across her face. "Oh, you are so on."

Elsa followed inside right after. Her eyes trailed after her sister, but they appeared strangely hollow to Garret.

"Everything okay, Your Majesty?" he said.

She looked like she had just stopped daydreaming. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Everything's fine."

Garret stood behind the couch to let the family have enough space. He kept checking on Elsa every now and then; to be so expressionless usually indicated that something was going on inside her head. The way she held onto that poor purple cushion as if it was a lifebelt was another dead giveaway.

"All right, today is charades day," Anna started with her characteristic enthusiasm. "Boys versus girls, best out of five. Elsa, you're up."

Her gaze snapped up. "Wait, I'm starting?"

"Yup! We're gonna show'em. Let's do this, you and me. Same spirit, same mind."

After a resigned sigh, Elsa made for the small oval carpet that served as a makeshift stage. Sven trotted closer, handed her the word she had to act out and gently grabbed the pillow away from her hands.

"Thank you," Elsa muttered in that delicate voice of hers. She opened the paper, read its content and lightly bent down to drop it on the ground like a fragile flower.

The slight frown and wince that appeared on her visage told Garret everything he needed to know.

_It's got to be something that has to do with one of us. She looks at Kristoff, it's 'reindeer'. She looks at Anna, it's either 'sword' or 'love'. She looks at me…_

Garret immediately repressed a chuckle when Elsa's eyes flew to him then snapped to the ground in panic.

_…it's 'ice'._

A second before the game's start, someone knocked.

"Lieutenant?" a muffled voice called through.

Someone wanted him? At that hour?

"Excuse me," he said before striding toward the—very ill-timed—call. He opened the door and was met by his direct subordinate's salute. "Argod? What are you doing here?"

The poor boy shifted on his feet. He didn't want to be here either. "Sorry to disturb you this late, sir. Counselor Sorenson asked me to bring you to him."

"What does Einar want with me?"

"He didn't say. But he's in a meeting with Captain Karel down in the barracks. It looked important."

Garret released a heavy sigh. "All right, I'll be there immediately. No need to wait for me. Thank you for the message. You're dismissed."

Argod saluted once more and walked away as quickly as his short legs allowed.

"Sorry, have to leave," Garret announced while reattaching his spaulders. "Work. Don't wait for me."

"You're just using an excuse because you know you're gonna take a beating," Anna deadpanned.

"Kristoff?"

"Yup?"

"You know your priorities."

"Yes, sir."

Anna narrowed her eyes at her man. "You're choosing to win a game over your fiancée?"

"That—We're… We'll see," he stammered.

Garret checked on Elsa one last time before leaving—she wasn't even looking at him; her gaze lingered on the window, far beyond reality itself. He would ask her what had her so distracted later on.

He hurried down the stairs, making sure his uniform was impeccable on the way. The buildings around the barracks were as quiet as death. The only light he perceived came from the multitask room where they held most of their meetings. Garret pushed the door open.

Einar Sorenson and Ingrid Karel were hunched over a map, a messy collection of letters and pins scattered around Arendelle and its northern neighbors. Garret saluted sharply.

"Captain, Counselor."

They both turned to him.

"Ah, Lieutenant. Thank you for coming on such short notice," Einar said.

The dim lighting around highlighted the graying of his hair more than usual—the salt was gaining some territory over the pepper. The last couple of years hadn't been kind to his appearance, especially for someone who was still an entire decade younger than Garret's father, but he still maintained an impressive physical form though the responsibilities that came with the advisor position hadn't helped.

The much younger Captain was another story—her blond hair shone like fire in the room's relatively morose ambiance. Garret still wondered how she managed to fit it all in a single ponytail. She had the smallest frame out of all the Guard—he wasn't even sure whether she weighed heavier than Elsa or not—yet she was its most respected officer.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. This'll be quick, but we have worrying news."

"Or rather, no news at all."

Ingrid nodded. "Precisely. Our forward scout camps posted North went silent."

Garret strode closer to the table to examine which camps she was talking about. "The weekly report didn't come?"

"For three weeks now. I sent another messenger just in case. They were supposed to come back today. No word from them either."

Einar crossed his arms. "These camps surveil the northern border with the Red Forest. The last reports were already giving weird signs. Mentions of booming sounds and trembling grounds, along with a giant cloud of mist covering the woods."

"Cannons?"

"We don't know for sure."

"That doesn't sound very reassuring. How many men are there?"

"Six," Ingrid answered. "Lieutenant, trouble stirring there is a big deal. Last time Arendelle marched into that forest, we lost every single soldier we sent…"

"…and we'd rather avoid reigniting a war up there."

Garret had read about the most crushing defeat Arendelle ever suffered—so crushing that nobody had dared set foot inside that forest again since. The higher-ups usually never shared much detail on operations that didn't relate directly to his, especially for something so sensitive, but they had personally called for him. They needed something done.

He straightened his back and clasped his hands together. "Understood. What are the directives?"

Ingrid's dark eyes widened. "We didn't even…" she started.

Einar interrupted her with a chuckle. "This is not a mandatory mission, Carter. It's not your job to do this."

"That just means you need my skills, not my rank."

The Counselor and the Captain shared one glance and a nod before turning back to him.

"I'm personally going up there," Ingrid explained. "I'd appreciate help for something so delicate. And you're the member of the Guard who's had the most experience dealing with explosive weaponry. It may be nothing, but I'd rather go prepared."

Garret scoffed at his own memories from those times. "It was more _try not to die from it_ than _deal with it,_ but I see your point, ma'am. When do we depart?"

Ingrid's tense shoulders relaxed, and her expression softened. "Probably not before a few days. I'll keep you posted."

"Very well. That all you needed me for?"

Einar nodded. "That's all, Lieutenant. You're dismissed."

After one last salute, Garret exited the conference room, left the barracks and made his way back up to the game.

_Field reconnaissance… And here I thought I'd never have to do it again._

The scout situation would definitely keep his mind occupied for the next days, but for now, he needed to know what was bugging Elsa so much—and also whether his prediction had been true.

Opening the door to the chamber, he was surprised to only see Kristoff, sitting inside with a rose across his mouth and what he assumed was his most seductive smolder pointed in his direction. The curious then mortified flashes that surged through his face were almost too much for Garret not to burst into laughter.

He managed to calm the spasms and snickers early enough. "First, you look wonderful. Second, where are they?"

Kristoff spat the flower out, cleared his throat and tried to look half-serious. "Elsa left a bit early. She said she was feeling sleepy, but she definitely looked troubled. Of course, Anna followed."

"And you were waiting for her to come back. Don't worry, the image's going with me to the tomb. I don't think I'll be able to get it out of my brain anyway. I'll go check on her. See ya, Kris."

And just like that, he was headed towards Elsa's room. He hadn't been to it a lot—while he was close to the royal family and her personal guard, it was still a sanctuary for the Queen. But for now, his worry erased any doubts that could've hampered his steps.

He reached the door faster than he'd thought his legs could carry him and gently knocked.

"Come in."

That was Anna's voice. In a whisper. Elsa was probably already asleep.

He peeked inside as carefully as he could.

The bright silvery moonlight was a diffuse ocean that spilled into the room, lessening the inky blackness of the night that glimpsed through the window and against which the trees silhouetted like an army watching after their liege, but not so bright as to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above.

Elsa and Anna were on the bed, curled up against each other in a way that almost made him jealous.

"Hey there. Everything all right?" he murmured.

Anna smiled warmly, outshining even the moon with the pure brilliance her expression emanated—he sometimes understood why Kristoff was so helplessly in love. "Yeah. She's just a bit tired. She'll probably want to talk to you, tomorrow."

"Not anything… bad?"

"Not really. You'll see. Or... hear, I guess."

That was all he needed to know.

"Okay. I'm going to let you rest. See you tom—"

"Actually, why don't you stay for a bit?"

"What? Stay here?"

"Yeah. Elsa relaxed when she heard your voice." Anna redirected her gaze towards the snuggling ball of purple that clung to her side and tenderly brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. "You should see how big her smile is."

Garret couldn't hold a surge of heat from pulsing around his entire body. "Going for the heart, now?"

"You're not the only marksman in the castle."

He released a resigned sigh, stepped inside and quietly approached the only chair available—which probably cost more than his entire room down in the barracks.

"You're just gonna sit there?" Anna asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

He plopped down and crossed his arms. "Yup."

"There's room on the bed."

"Oh yeah, right next to the Queen and the now engaged Princess, in my guard uniform. Silly me," he snorted out.

"Who's gonna come in? The Queen?"

"Not happening, Anna. Go to sleep. I'll leave when you do."

"Ten crowns says you snore before I do."

He chuckled and metaphorically clapped her raised hand from a distance.

"Deal."

* * *

Anna was still there. The ice blade piercing her heart too.

_Wait, no. It's not Anna._

The hair was red, but it wasn't a woman she was looking at. Though his smile was beautiful and rejuvenating, the small twitches obviously showed how much hurt he was in. She tried to call his name, but nothing came out of her mouth.

The man morphed, transformed. The name still didn't come back. Now, a brilliant silhouette stood before her, the halo of pure light almost blinding her. Something lifted from its right. Was it an arm? A threat? A warning? An invitation?

Then she heard it again. A long chant she now recognized sounded a lot like a kulning—an old herding call. She heard it once, then twice.

And Elsa woke up.

But the call didn't stop.

She tried to seal her ears with a pillow, but it still cleaved through. It came from over the seas and echoed around the fjord. Outside, a comforting blue glow swallowed the balcony. The skies were clear, the waters were calm.

She sat on her mattress and ran her eyes around her; Anna was sprawled like a starfish over her half of the bed. Their mother's scarf was over her, the usual thin line of drool that shone like a glass tube and slipped out of her sister's mouth dangerously close to its exterior rim. Elsa gently readjusted it to cover her naked right shoulder. On the chair, right next to the door, Garret sat with his arms and legs crossed and a towel over his face; Elsa repressed a gasp of surprise. Anna had surely told him to stay, he would never have done it on his own otherwise.

Elsa silently crawled out of her bed. The parquet's creaking was a bit too loud for her taste; Garret stirred in place and she held her breath, her eyes glued to him. After a few seconds, when she was sure he had gone back to a night of restful sleep, she allowed herself to slip forward—she couldn't risk lifting her feet for fear that it would wake him. As he had explained once, spending an entire year on the run made his sleep light, which also meant that he wasn't hearing the call.

Sliding outside through the door's narrow opening, Elsa threw one last glance to Anna before closing the door's heavy frame. Yet another chant thundered when the lock snapped into place.

"Stop it," she said to nobody in particular, aiming her voice at the roof. "You're just being a bother."

The call rang again a bit faster than the first times, with an insolence that bordered on Olaf's. Elsa scoffed at the irony. Even strange ethereal voices laughed at her attempts at authority.

One of her castle's innumerable red-draped corridors spread out before her; she could walk to clear her head. She hugged herself on instinct and pressed onwards. The red-topped candles around her seemed to flicker with each of her steps, with each of the incessant calls.

"Stop it, Siren, Shepherdess… Whoever you are!" she whispered in anger. "I know you're trying to lure me out of here, and I won't go!"

Elsa reached the family salon and its vast balcony. She stepped outside and filled her lungs with the crisp and puffy night air.

The magnificent spectacle of the fjord's quiet slumber was a view she never tired of: the faint glint of the full moon reverberating on the clean surface of the water; Arendelle's burning lights and picturesque houses melding together to form a landscape that wouldn't be too out of place in a fairy tale; the summits that reached as high as the skies in the distance, and where her new ice castle stood proudly; the twinkle of the stars even above those, eternal lights in an otherwise empty and dark void.

Maybe this once it would alleviate the nuisance in her ear.

As soon as the thought left her brain, the call repeated itself, slower, louder. Elsa sighed, but something was different this time. It sounded _appealing_.

She lifted focused eyes to the horizon. It was calling her, and only her. Why? What did it want?

A question she was surprised she wanted answered more and more with each passing second.

Before she knew it, Elsa was already next to the railing. Then her eyes closed, and her heart opened. Then the call came, and she listened. Then she was perched over the edge, hungry for more. Then she prepared her answer, and…

"Please tell me you're not about to break into song."

Garret's voice called her back to reality with a startle that rattled her entire body. She uttered a short yelp and whirled to face him; he was leaning against the glass door at the balcony's entrance with crossed arms and a lifted eyebrow. He probably could hear her quickened heartbeats judging by how loud they sounded to her.

"I know the sky looks pretty, but it's three in the morning," he added.

"Garret! You scared me…"

"Sorry about that," he said while walking closer. His brows furrowed in genuine worry. "What are you doing out here? Alone?"

"Just… thinking."

"About what?"

Elsa released a breath.

_I can talk to him about this. I was planning to anyway._

She summoned her ice, and a few snowflakes scurried away from her palm. "This."

"Your powers… Anything new?"

"I'm…" She looked into the distance, her gaze wandering into the deep blue of the sea. "I'm hearing a call."

His eyes widened immediately, and he stepped even closer. "God-freaking-dammit. When? How often? What does it say? Who is it?"

"I can't really…" She shook her head, and his excitement died out faster than it had shot up. "It's far, that much I know. Far over the horizon."

"What does it sound like?" Elsa took a second to breathe and tried to replicate the call as precisely as she could—a task that proved easier than she'd thought. "All right, that gave me goosebumps but it's nothing like what I heard."

"I thought so." She had known that since the very first time she heard it. "It started this morning. When we found this room… this secret chamber, full of strange books."

"You didn't talk to me about this…"

He looked honestly disappointed.

"I was going to, tomorrow," she said, and he seemed to believe her immediately. "One of the books was written by Mother. Some of the text was in Northeldrian. You know the Northuldra?"

"I've heard of them. The Last Arendellian War."

Having lost Arendelle's army, her father had dubbed it thus as a pledge to never lose more lives in conflict, and he had refused to form an armed force again. He never said it outright, but Elsa knew he had been profoundly scarred by his experience in that forest.

"Yes, that war claimed my grandfather and the entire Arendellian military. Father and Mother came back from it when they were still teenagers."

Garret crossed his arms. "Einar also talked about something stirring up North..."

"You know you have to call him Lord Sorenson now."

"Meh, he wouldn't mind." She countered his smug grin with a skeptical glance. "…much. He wants me to check on the advanced scout camps with Captain Karel."

Elsa's heart tightened at the idea that he'd be so far for a few days. "That's probably cause for worry." Her hand squeezed on her own shoulder. "I read this one word, and the call started right after."

"What was the word?"

"It sounds more like a name. _Ahtohallan_."

He winced. "Never heard it."

"Me neither, before this. And the library taught me nothing. The book was written just before they… They…" She sighed heavily. Despite the six years since their passing, talking about them was still hard. "They were researching where our powers came from."

"Yours only. Remember what Pebbly—"

" _Pabbie_."

"—said. For all we know, mine come from somewhere else."

Elsa leaned against the cold stone and shook her head. They had talked about this before. "They appeared during your fourth winter, exactly when I was born. I don't think it's a coincidence."

"Maybe. So, what do we do now?

"What do you want me to do? I have a duty here; I can't just dash off into the sunset." He raised suspicious eyebrows and lightly tilted his head. "What?" He blinked rapidly, just like he did when he tried very hard to look surprised, and she had to bite her lip not to smile. "What are those eyes for?"

He chuckled and came right next to her; his forearms rested on the railing. "Let me tell you a story."

"What is it with you and stories?" she asked in amusement.

The warm smile she adored appeared on his face. "She used to love telling them. This one is about the Moon." He pointed a finger towards the big brilliant circle above their heads and she followed his gaze up. "Look at it. What do you see?"

"On the… Moon?"

"Yes. On the surface."

"Craters."

"Cra-what now?"

"Schroeter names them that. They're vestiges of what I think are impacts left behind by space rocks, but most scientists think they're traces of vulcanis—" She stopped when she caught his wide blank stare scrutinizing her from her right. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Those are not your _nothing_ eyes."

"You're always so focused on technical stuff… I was thinking, more like a face. Look. The eyes, the nose, the mouth."

She understood what he was referring to. "Oh, Máni?"

"That's how you call the Man in the Moon?"

"Yes, and he is continually pursued by the Great Wolf Hati who catches him and devours him at Ragnarök. Is that your story?"

He squinted hard. "That is significantly darker than my story and now it's ruined in my head. But anyway, my point is, you can't just ignore that call, yeah?" His half-smirk disappeared after a few seconds. "You're taking way too long to say _No, I can't._ "

"I don't know, Garret; everything is fine… Everyone I've ever loved is here. I have the feeling I'll only be looking for trouble if I follow it."

She tried not to dwell too much on her use of a certain word.

He simply chortled. "And we're just going to let your powers grow indefinitely?"

_Wait. What?_

She hadn't talked to him about their _strange_ behavior for the last few weeks.

"How did you—"

He raised an arm and she uttered a strengthless gasp; ice crystals appeared and hissed away on his hand in an endless cycle, growing and shining then waning and vaporizing.

"The little ones are back."

Her own hand flew to his in reflex and imbued it with her magic; she covered it in a thick mist that would hopefully dissolve the pesky protuberances.

"Are they hurting you? Oh, spirits they're hurting you, aren't they?"

She looked to the ground, both hurt and shame tugging down at her stomach.

"I'm fine, don't worry. They don't hurt this time. But Elsa…" His free hand hesitantly glided towards her; it wouldn't go farther without her approval. She leaned into its contact and let it trace down her cheek in a slow and gentle stroke before lifting her chin. That tender smile was back on his face. "You can't turn away from your call like this."

"I don't need anything to change, Garret," she softly answered. "I can just _not_ hear it."

"I saw what that attempt looked like in the corridor."

The heat popped into her face in a volcanic eruption of self-consciousness; but there was also a tinge of irritation that melded with the hot lava of mortification.

She leaned away an iota. "You should have announced yourself. You can't just peep on me like that…"

He carefully watched her movements; this was something he knew would embarrass her. He sighed and hunched slightly forward. At the very least, he looked like he was aware he had been rude.

"You're right, I apologize. Won't happen again." She gave him a small bashful smile and a quick squeeze of her fingers—she appreciated his apology as much as his attempts to cheer her up. "But more importantly," he continued. "I know this is not what you want. You need your adventure."

"I've had my adventure. I don't need something new."

"Elsa. Three years ago, Anna and Kristoff had their adventure; and they found each other. Two years ago, _I_ had my adventure; and I found you. Now is the time for you to have your adventure, and find out who that is," he said with a nod toward the thin silver line between sea and sky.

"A queen can't wander off into the unknown like that. I have a duty to these—"

"No duty will ever be more important than the one you have to yourself," Garret asserted with confidence, standing slightly taller and speaking louder to emphasize his point. His words resonated with her in a novel way. "You're always giving, never receiving."

"And I should just _go_?"

"You won't be alone. If I know Anna, she'll probably stick to you harder than Olaf does to anything hot, which makes Kristoff in too. And for what it's worth…" He stepped back and bowed regally. "You'll have me."

Elsa quietly giggled. He always played tame in front of everyone, but he loved his theatrics.

Turning back to the horizon, Elsa felt that same urge to follow the call fill her entire being. As if reacting to her, the voice rose again, its ethereal hum driving shivers up her back.

"Can I really?" she asked.

"You're hearing it?"

"I am."

He let go of her hand. "Answer it."

"That will set things into motion I probably won't control…" Elsa said, trying as much as she could to repress her shy enthusiasm from bursting out.

Garret nodded and all doubts flew away.

_I don't have to follow it now. Let's just see what it has to say._

The call came once more. This time, it wouldn't remain alone for long. She took a profound inspiration and mirrored the chant, projecting her voice as far she could. The echo banged inside the fjord, lapping against the shores as vividly as the cradle of the waves.

And she waited.

Silence was her answer.

Elsa was on the verge of shouting out in the open for a second time when the response finally came.

A flurry of glittering powder darted from her hand without asking her first, materializing in front of her eyes and assuming the shape of a purple scintillating flame that danced around her in a succession of happy little hops.

The fire became whirlwind; it collapsed and surged upwards with a mighty push, leaping and whirling and twisting and jittering above her head. The gale was accompanied by a quiet yet strident giggle, an otherworldly titter both ancient and juvenile.

Then it flowed in an imprecise growth of blue glowing fluid, a vortex of colliding cascades that broke, reformed, separated, fused. Elsa tried to track all the movements at once, quickly abandoning the task when the silhouette of a horse flashed together and bowed before her.

The fluid turned solid and heavy. It scampered ahead of her into a pile of brut masses, building up little by little until they were thrice her size. They stomped the very ground, trampled the rocks themselves. They bobbed what looked like their heads and disintegrated in a dusty trail of particles.

And then a girl appeared. Her giggle was shorter this time, but more human, less intangible. Her hair dashed up and her entire body soon followed, lifting off the ground in a dazzling soar to the skies.

The images faded into the darkness that was now surrounding her, dimming out against the starry night's celestial awning.

The call echoed one last time and receded beyond the waters in a final high note.

Elsa opened the eyes she hadn't even realized she had closed. Garret hadn't budged, and she had a lot to say to him.

"It replied back! It spoke to me!"

Her voice was pitching way too high, but she couldn't care less.

"What did it say?"

"I don't know! It's amazing!"

Garret released a single chuckle. "…thaaaaat you don't know what it said?"

"I know it can talk to me, sort of? You didn't see any of it?" He shook his head. "I saw… I saw images. I can't make sense of them now."

"I'm just going to… stand here and wait for you to sift through all that."

"There were big silhouettes after a horse and… A fire? I didn't even know magic could take that color. Then there was a little girl…" Elsa suddenly recalled what those visions reminded her of. "We have to go see the trolls! Pabbie used the exact same magic to forecast the future! They might be able to tell what the visions mean. Let's go!" Without a second thought, Elsa darted inside, the balcony and its hesitations quickly forgotten. Her ardor damped in a flash when she stopped in front of a mirror and took a second to assess her situation. She walked back to where Garret still stood, the amused yet soft grin still adorned on his face. "Or… We might want to wait for the morning."

"Are you going to be able to sleep?"

"Yes?" Elsa winced and everything about her hunched—she could try to lie to herself, but not to him. "No."

He laughed earnestly. "I love seeing this giddy excitement."

"Hey, I'm not a child anymore," she said, making sure to lightly slap his shoulder on her way outside. "Don't patronize me."

He pointed at her face. "Been a while since I saw one of those." She was confused at first as to what he was referring to, then the hurt in her cheeks told her that she had been grinning from ear to ear the entire time. "Oh, screw it, you know what?"

"Language…"

"Let's go, right now."

"Are you serious?" He gave her a sharp nod, already stepping out of the balcony. "You and me?"

He threw a thumb in her room's general direction. "I can go wake Anna up if you want."

Elsa took a few seconds to think. "That's not necessary. She's had a long day. We'll fill her in when we come back."

"Right. I'll go prepare the horses."

"Horses? One will be enough, no?"

"Oh, I thought… All—all right? The horse. I'm going to prepare the horse."

Despite the buzz of hysteric thrill pulsing through her, there was still a part of Elsa that wanted to be sure she was making the right choice in pursuing the voice.

"Is it going to be worth it?" she asked, her hands clasped in front of her.

He shrugged and lifted two hands to his sides. "Only one way to know that, innit? We'll take a plunge and see what happens."

"We might end up drowning."

"Then we'll just freeze the water. We're good at that."

Elsa smiled to the ground, her heart filling with a warmth she had been yearning for.

"Garret?" she called before he could dash away.

"Aye?"

She didn't have as much trouble finding the words after two years, but she still had to untangle a few knots in her throat to speak. "This means a lot. I feel like I'm always thanking you..."

"You've been there for me for a long while. Time to return the favour."

His gigantic smile was making it very hard not to stutter. How he didn't understand that his mere presence was more than enough to lift her spirits was beyond her, but also one of his most adorable quirks.

"Thank you."

He nodded once, the mix of green and blue shine in his eyes boosting her own confidence.

"Always."

And he disappeared behind a corner, leaving her alone with the Moon.

* * *

**Bonus: Anna's sword.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it
> 
> Aight. This one came out close to the two-week mark. Highly unlikely it'll happen again, but let's enjoy my punctuality for once!
> 
> So. On the subject of movie scenes and lines: you may have noticed a few 'wink wink I saw the movie too' lines here. It won't happen a lot. Probably once or twice more for the entire arc. It already began here, but extensive changes start next chapter.
> 
> I will also try to add a quick sketch/drawing every other chapter starting from now. That'll be an occasional thing, though. This once, Anna's sword, Blue.
> 
> Of course, thoughts and comments are as always very welcome!
> 
> Let's pick up on the teaser theme, shall we? Next chapter's theme is Glacial by The Hit House, which honestly serves as a theme for this one too. Yes, I think the movie the trailer tried to sell was going to be very different.
> 
> See you next time!
> 
> Peace,
> 
> CalAm.


	3. Spirits

The sound of hammering hooves on the cold ground melded with the background noise of whistling wind and jumbling leaves. The trees around Elsa were turning a shade not unlike Anna's hair, but a few patches of green still valiantly fought the crimson invasion.

Embla had been astonishingly calm for the trip under the glinting bask of the moonlight—a surprising yet very welcome change from her usual fearful nature. Maybe Elsa's own calmness was leaking into her?

It probably also helped that Garret was not bad with horses. He held her reins as delicately as she would have done; he was acutely aware Embla didn't like abrupt riders, and that she was the only steed in Arendelle Elsa accepted to ride on. Personality compatibility, perhaps?

She gently caressed her mount's stomach and brought her right hand over her left in a secure grip around Garret's waist.

"This is nice. I should go riding more often," she said.

"It's always nice to walk outside, clear your head. But we both know you don't have the time." He clicked his tongue and stirred his head so that he could look at her from over his shoulder. "That free time isn't going to magically appear unless you tell the Council you want it."

_Again with this._

It was now a habit of him to ask her to take it easy; ever since becoming her personal guard and thus spending a lot more of his days directly at her side while she worked, he'd brought the subject up at least twice a week. The worried glances he threw at her every time her fingers barely brushed her temples or she sighed a bit too loudly were heartwarming at first, but they eventually grew to stress her more than anything.

Garret shrugged. "I'm sure Anna, Einar, Finn, Leif, Henrik—basically everyone but Harold would agree, and Harold is the human equivalent of a ball of cr—of a tea stain on a napkin."

"Harold isn't most… accommodating, but I don't need that much leniency. Now that Anna helps me with everything I have more than enough time for myself and my family. I don't think bringing it up every day will change that."

"As always, _stubborn_. I get the message. I'll stop if that is your wish, Your Majesty _."_ He always used her title whenever he wanted to show he was displaying mock displease. She lightly slapped his shoulder and he shuffled back in place. "I don't know why, but I feel like this Valley is a lot further away than last time…"

Elsa quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. "You were unconscious last time."

"My point exactly."

She repressed a chuckle at his—arguably, bad—tentative to look tough. "What does that mean? You don't like my company?"

"I do. _Majesty_."

"That'd be a shame because I enjoy yours. I would have no one to torment with pranks otherwise."

"I see. I'm just a queen's buffoon, then. Happy to please."

Elsa unfolded her hand and fired a delicate flurry of snowflakes up at his face. She caught with an amused glance a few minuscule glimmering wisps of magic sneaking up his nose.

The poor man was taken by surprise and reeled up, releasing a gigantic sneeze that almost spooked Embla. Elsa kept the laughter quiet by putting a hand over her mouth when he turned around, his cheeks low and eyes wide at her traitorous jab.

"Bless you," she said, a single joyous squeal escaping past her lips.

"Nuh-uh. You don't get to say that. Not after that sucker punch. Couldn't even defend myself. Horrendous." He turned back to the road, and his shoulders exaggeratedly sank in disappointment. "Ladies and gentlemen, the 24-year-old queen of Arendelle."

Elsa giggled again, but now that she'd seen him in a state of relative alert, the way his head hung slightly lower than before and his eyelids looked too heavy for him made her sigh in understanding.

"You're nodding off," she realized aloud. "Did you sleep well last night?"

At her words, he immediately sat straighter on his saddle, so straight that he was almost against her own body now. "I'm fine, just had a long day. I took a nap this afternoon, should be enough."

She squeezed his torso with her arms as gently as she could. "No, you didn't. No need to put up a face."

"Heh. No, I didn't. But I'll manage."

_You won't._

The dwindling fizzle that faded progressively in his eyes was proof enough of that. He wouldn't see it himself, so _she_ had to show _him_ he was beyond tired. Why did she always have the impression the roles were reversed?

Of the two, _she_ was supposed to be the young one. Surely that meant he had to be more responsible.

Elsa quietly scanned his face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He tried to look around him with groggy eyes and a clearly repressed yawn, apparently settling on the reins wrapped around his fingers when he didn't find her raised hand. "Umm… Two?"

To his credit, two was the most likely answer to her question; it wasn't any less wrong, though.

"No."

"Three?"

"Either."

" _Twelve?"_

"My hands are still around you, Garret."

He threw a glance down to his stomach, comprehension dawning on his face like the sun over the ocean. "Oh."

"Yes. _Oh._ " Elsa drew circles with her hand on his back then gave it tender small taps, a quick pang of guilt passing through her at the idea that he was so tired because he was accompanying her. "Please get some sleep. I can handle the riding for a bit. There should be an hour or so left."

Garret took a long inspiration and gently signaled for Embla to stop her trotting. "All right."

He slumped to the ground and extended a hand to help Elsa get on the most forward part of the saddle before jumping up and sitting behind her. Except he had sat a lot closer to her than she had been to him, and she could feel the ragged leather of his dark coat against her.

She tried to quell the heat that burst in her cheeks, scooted an inch forward and cleared her now tighter throat.

"Is—Is that better?"

"I'm just missing a mattress. And a pillow. And a tea." His voice had gone deeper again, and the fact that he had been so close to her ear drove involuntary shivers up her neck. "But it'll do."

Elsa's frivol embarrassment melted away at the sight of his relaxed smile. She was still not overly comfortable with so much contact, but he didn't burn her, and he looked at ease.

"The things I let you do to me."

"I know. Scandalous."

Time passed in silence when he fell into his slumber. His rhythmic breathing synchronized with Embla's, as if he was still hearing everything around them in his sleep.

Elsa was alone, but the chirps and squeaks inside the woods here and there reassured her whenever things got too quiet. Elsa did not fear the forest as she had during her first passage.

While the nightmares of the day she'd rushed through it with her parents still lingered in some of her nights, they backed away quicker under the flame that Anna had taught her to wield, that Arendelle had brought higher and that Garret had kept steady in her hand. The forest had lost its terrifying aura.

The hour left in the voyage turned into two, but time still flew by. If Elsa could live through a two-hour debate about whether the capital's upper plateaus needed acacias or saxifrages, she could survive a two-hour tour of her favorite parts of Aren's Forest. And so she did.

The road to the Valley's high rocks and steep cliffs zigzagged deep into the realm of menhirs and dolmens so ancient the serrated wrinkles crinkling and waggling down their lengths had outlived entire civilizations. The gigantic gash in the mountain grew before her as Embla advanced; the entry to the trolls' timeless territory was now in sight.

The trolls' round silhouettes stood out from the dark background. Among them, Pabbie's glowing threads of green moss and lazy vine striping down his skull shone brighter, enough to highlight the tight worry that marred his face.

A sudden jolt at her back drew a breathless gasp from her.

"Oh God! Trolls! Wolves! Trolls riding wolves!" Garret exclaimed with a start.

"Ah!" Elsa yelped. She turned wide eyes to her now very awake companion, trying to keep her heart from beating itself out of her chest. "What was that?"

Garret looked around him and, in a rush of self-consciousness that Elsa could only relate to, pinched his nose. "Ugh, my head. That's why I never nap."

"That doesn't answer the question. _Questions_. First: What do you _dream_ of?"

"My brain is weird, don't pay much attention to it," he explained with a dismissive wave of his hand and a quick massage of his neck. "I suppose we're there?"

"Almost. Let me do the talking for this one, okay? Pabbie can get, umm, quite philosophical."

"Oh, he's that type of guy?"

"Which type?"

Garret leaned on the side to observe the trail and the hundreds of living rocks at its end. "No one gets what he says but everyone understands that he has the right to say it?"

Elsa's first instinct was to roll her eyes at him, but thinking back on them, his words did hold some veracity.

"That… is actually it. Kind of. I'm surpri—"

"He's basically a military instructor."

"—sed you didn't try to bring it back to your army days…" she finished, her tone graveling down with each word, mirroring the very noticeable narrowing of her eyes. "I'm starting to doubt whether you can talk about anything else."

"At least I don't backstab people."

"What does that have to do with anything I just said?!"

Garret clamped his eyes shut. "Oh, sweet arms of Morpheus. How nice of you to welcome me back."

* * *

That girl was an inexhaustible source of trouble. And now that there were two of them, Pabbie should have known better than to hope for the dull moments to taper off into a reposing sunset. Real life didn't work like that; _magic_ didn't work like that, especially not when it dealt with unknowns.

Elsa's horse approached and stopped a few paces away from him; Garret dropped to the ground—his eyes were way too puffy and his powers way too feeble for him not to have just awakened from a restless sleep—and guided Elsa down with a careful hand.

 _They have each other for now,_ Pabbie thought. _That's something._

"Hello, Grand Pabbie," Elsa said.

He bowed low, his tribe replicating his gestures with cranky whispers. "Queen Elsa. Garret."

She gracefully bowed back, and the soldier nodded in greeting.

"I had a feeling I'd meet you soon," Pabbie continued.

There wasn't any point in delaying it. He knew why she had come, and what she had tipped beyond the point of no return.

Her lifted eyebrows were formal; she hadn't considered that he'd know. "You did? You've seen what I've seen?"

He confirmed her suspicion with a curt nod. "And the news isn't good. Follow me. You too, Garret."

The trolls split into a path large enough for the two humans to walk and Pabbie led them to the Cave Vale's entrance with swift steps. He pulled at the rocks' magic and they answered him, rolling and colliding and clashing in a melody as old as he was; the passage grew enough for Garret's larger build to pass through this time.

"You already came here with me, Elsa, but we're going deeper this once."

He lifted a hand, and the sprigs and elemental iotas of magic gathered in his palm, shining brighter and brighter. He passed his quarters, opened the gate to the old ones' Deep Tunnels, lit the first extinguished flames and advanced, Garret and Elsa falling into his steps.

The ground shook harder under them the further they went, and he heard the two children of ice's hearts tighten in anxiousness.

"Quakes are common here, don't worry," Pabbie reassured. "They're never dangerous."

The cavern's walls plunged deep into the earth and journeyed to its core, but the group would reach the levels the ancestral carvings occupied long before the heat would become unbearable for the two humans. A sore rumble growled louder as they walked; an intermittent shaking threw two or three pebbles at them every now and then.

The marks of the old ones snaked up the walls, the scars on the stone carved by water and time contributing to the aura of wisdom that pulsed within each cold vein. The ancients had foretold until the end of times, in a network of tunnels that expanded far beyond the limits of the continents. Fortunately, they had been wise enough to mark every story near its birthplace.

Pabbie listened to the periodic whispers that emanated from Elsa—though she probably wasn't aware they even existed. Now that the light of her magic had been activated and guided him, he knew where to find her story. He just had to follow the pulses.

He stopped when the voices did; they were now before the engravings he had to show them.

"Elsa, I hope you're ready for what you started."

"What do you mean?"

Pabbie lifted his hand and illuminated the walls; Elsa took a sharp breath and Garret uttered a quiet _Huh._

The old carvings had lost their golden gleam over the thousands of millennia, but the shapes were simple enough to be recognizable.

Four diamonds. A cloud of mist. A forest. And in the middle of it all, a flower guided by wind.

A premonition.

"You answered something, right?" Pabbie asked.

Worry flashed inside Elsa's eyes as fast as her curious gaze evaporated. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It can be… Depending on how you handle it. Come closer, child." Pabbie's fingers grazed the walls, their light transferring inside the engravings and pulsating with a new flicker of knowledge embedded in rock. The ancients spoke to him, and their premonitions materialized before him.

The four diamonds swirled around each other and blinked into nothingness. "Whoever called you, did from the North. North of the Red Forest, home to powerful spirits." A mighty steed emerged from the depths. "The first governs over the waters of the Dark Sea and the Høyrød River." A gust of eternal gale blew through the tunnel. "The second commands the Northwind and its storms." A horned beast roared and slashed, eyes ablaze. "The third is the chief of the Great Fires of Hálogi." A million heads sprang, and a jagged silhouette stood taller than all. "The last is the earthly embodiment of Jörð's will and guides the earth's children. Trolls come from the same entity as he does."

"Those are the images I saw," Elsa said. Her hand flew to her heart. "That's what the voice showed me."

Garret's eyes squinted hard. "And they're just carved on the walls like this?"

Doubt. It was understandable. Even if he wielded magic, it wasn't woven in his very being like it was with Pabbie. Humans had a hard time with magic in general, especially when the old ones were involved.

"These engravings have been here for much, _much_ longer than I," he explained.

"How old does that mean?" Garret asked. Elsa lightly slapped his shoulder and he turned to her in honest confusion. "What?"

"That's rude."

"It is a legitimate interrogation." Pabbie chuckled and gazed far into the dark void of the earth's crust's depths. "I was born long before humanity. These premonitions, however, are warnings from those who were there when our world was born and shaped it to how we see it today—they're not prophecies. Does that answer your question?" Garret gave a sheepish nod—the boy was endearing, in a sense. But he had to make them both understand the dangers that lied on Elsa's path. "Elsa. These are powerful beings. Clusters of similar spirits became revered as gods elsewhere, for good reason."

"How powerful can they be?" she asked.

"Enough to seal an entire forest from the rest of the world without effort."

She shook her head in disbelief. "The Red Forest is sealed? With the Northuldra still inside?"

"It has been for the last thirty years. A mighty mist appears to those inside and out, cutting them from each other. It darkens it skies, hides its sun."

"That's when the Last Arendellian War ended… How come we never heard of this? There are scout camps barely a few miles away."

"Stand afar, and the mist fades. Spirits are clever, too."

Garret crossed his arms. "The spirits did that?"

"I believe so. And they're angry. They're not independent however; they coexist with us and other elementals, with the humans you call Northuldra, and with someone else."

"Someone else?"

Pabbie faced the engravings back and called for the only image that blurred before his eyes. A long and unclear humanoid silhouette, higher than a house and wider than an oak.

"A figure without name. A silent guardian, a steadfast warden or a watchful trickster. It stands above the spirits, never intervening directly. What it wants, and what it does; none has ever been able to tell. That is the source of my concern, Elsa. I suspect this is who's calling you. And we cannot be sure of its intentions."

"It only speaks to me…" She sank into her thoughts, only emerging mere moments later with a finger lifted. "Does the name Ahtohallan mean anything to you?"

That wasn't something Pabbie had ever heard of.

"Unfortunately not, child. But I can look."

He touched the walls again and questioned the old ones.

_Ahtohallan._

A name bearing memory and history, but not much else. Only a fragment remained, and the hazy voices gathered once again to speak through him.

"The gears of time turn, yet the future waits. A fang born of pride met as sharp an edge. Truth shall rise, lest the flower falls."

The voices left his mind, the cloud of their wisdom dissipating in the tunnel's humid obscurity.

"That was pretty explicit," Garret said with pursed lips.

Elsa's hands were on her hips, her brows furrowed in concentration. "The middle part isn't the clearest, but yes."

Garret's hands dropped and he scratched his forehead. "Umm… No, I was just being sar—Nevermind."

"The first part is about the Red Forest. It makes sense to describe it as frozen in time if it's sealed away," Elsa deduced. "I have to discover some truth, that I understand too. And since everything else is tied to me, the flower most likely refers to the Crocus, so…"

"Arendelle is in danger?"

"That's a possibility."

Elsa and Garret exchanged a look and a determined nod. Pabbie wondered whether they'd even notice if he disappeared right there and then.

"We'll have to discover what truth it is, I think," she resumed. "Is there anything else that could help us here, Grand Pabbie?"

"If there is, I am not aware of its location, and it would take several of your lifetimes to search."

"Then we must do with what we have. Garret, shall we go back and warn Anna?"

"Lead the way."

Elsa snapped her fingers and her ice lighted her path before her. She jogged up the tunnels, leaving Pabbie alone with Garret. A perfect opportunity to make sure his warning had been heard.

"Garret," Pabbie called. "I've been meaning to talk to you. I know I shouldn't have cautioned her against you two years ago, and I apologize. But she needs you and Anna more than ever. I told Elsa long ago that her powers were too much for this world…"

He immediately scowled at his words. "Excuse me, you did what?"

"Oh, you didn't know… You'd just appeared in Arendelle with your ice magic and that hatred inside of you, I thought it best—"

"Wait a second," Garret interrupted with a shake of his head. "Don't care about that. Backtrack to that ' _too big for the world_ ' shite. _You're_ the one who told her that?"

Pabbie pushed a heavy sigh out of his lungs and clasped his hands in his back. "I did. It is not my proudest feat."

The marks of anger started showing on Garret's traits. The green of his eyes slowly receded to the outer rims, replaced by a blue shine that crept out of his iris. "Do you realize how much suffering she's been in because of that?"

The walls trembled around them. The old ones sensed a disturbance in the magic flows of the galleries—they were trying to correct it.

"Please calm down. Magic tends to react strongly to our surroundings," Pabbie explained in hopes to avoid the heavy stones above their heads collapsing over Garret.

After a long silent moment of staring, the soldier's tightened fist relaxed, and the blue glow disappeared from his pupils—but not the ire. Pabbie cast his glance to the ground in shame.

"I… I know all too well the heavy toll I took on those girls. I was there, both times Anna was hit. I made a lot of mistakes during my centuries. None have eaten away at my sleep quite like this one." His words seemed to strike true to Garret's heart—his face softened gradually. "The Elsa I just saw has a strength of will even my predecessors would have found remarkable, but this time it's not a test of her will. We have to pray that her powers are enough." Pabbie reached for Garret's shoulder and squeezed to share his magic. That was the only way to soothe him completely, and it would strengthen his magic's resonance with his. Elsa needed as many anchors as possible. "In pursuit of truth, she'll have to face obstacles we cannot fathom yet. She'll need Anna, but she'll also need you. She'll be scared, she'll hesitate. She mustn't."

Garret nodded and followed Elsa's trail with his eyes. "I'll make sure she finds out what she has to do. Even if it turns my hair white."

"About that. I'm still debating whether your existence has anything to do with all this."

Garret glanced back with a quirked eyebrow. "And my _hair_ told you that."

"In a sense. You're still a mystery to me. By all accounts, your powers shouldn't exist, or your hair would have been the same as hers. Elsa's magic was there when she was born, but yours…"

"She told me my hair turned clear blond and my eyes blue once," Garret said. "I almost died though. Not sure a hair dye is worth that price."

 _Curious_.

"Then, I was wrong. Both your powers' essences aren't the same, that still holds—but they're not so different. Which means that they're a modification for you, but not a curse. Very strange."

The way his eyes had burned blue a bit earlier… These were indeed the eyes of an elemental like Elsa, and Garret was obviously not one if he looked like he looked.

"Never saw someone like me?"

"I did, but they weren't human. That changes a lot of things. Elsa and you are the only humans I know who can directly use magic. I'm thinking whatever Elsa finds will answer both your questions about where they came from."

"Then I can stop worrying about my hair, right?"

"I wouldn't be so sure, it never stops with those two. They made me pull a few strands older than they are."

They chuckled lightly and Pabbie sighed in relief. He had enough trouble to deal with without adding an angry ice wielder on top of everything else.

The grumble of the earth's core traversed the ground under their feet, with a loud roar that Pabbie had never heard before.

"Another _normal_ earthquake?" Garret asked nonchalantly. "Drinking a good cup must be a nightmare in here."

Pabbie's heart sank. The old ones hadn't commanded a cleanse, and the trolls above were calm. This was something else.

"Not this one," he said gravely.

Garret stiffened and his eyes widened in worry. "Arendelle."

* * *

Anna hugged herself close and stood to the plateau's brim, her eyes walking the streets of her own city below. The empty stretches of clean and wet pavement were striking fear into her heart for the very first time.

Her grip tightened around Blue's copper handle and her glance ran the length of its sheath's fine leather stitching. She didn't know what to think of her first reflex being to grab her sword on her way out of her castle. Maybe she worried a bit too much?

To be fair, the situation _was_ extremely worrying. The fires going out had been strange enough, but the roaring waves, howling winds and growling grounds that had driven the entire population out were another matter altogether. The storm still raged unhindered and savage around the main plaza even after two hours had passed, cutting off any passage in town. Anna turned to the discolored and tired faces of her people, cold and shivering in their nightgowns for the majority, standing in silence on the small grassy square while the shock of the unexpected assault waned away.

Kristoff and Sven were already patrolling the improvised camp, delivering warm blankets and words of comfort to whoever accepted them; though the idea that the elements themselves were attacking Arendelle drilled at her, Anna's bleak soiree was brightened at her fiancé's efforts. She joined him on his march, and her forehead instinctively leaned on his shoulder in worry as they walked.

"This is crazy."

"We're used to it by now, I guess," Kristoff said. His attempt at a light tone wouldn't fool her; he was as anxious as she was. But at least he tried, and that was more than enough.

Anna twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers and sought his eyes. "Are we going to be okay? Is she going to be okay?"

Elsa had disappeared in the middle of the night, without a single word. Anna hadn't seen her nor Garret at all ever since the sky, sea and earth unleashed their wrath on them. They couldn't have run together somewhere; Elsa would have told her if anything was wrong.

_Right?_

Another thunderous rumble rose from afar, and Anna braced herself for another quake. But the earth's jolt of anger didn't come. Instead, a whinny echoed above, and a beige-white horse stopped at the cliff's rim. On its saddle, a panting Elsa and a stunned Garret.

"What's happened?" Elsa asked in hushed astonishment mixed with a tinge of dolor.

Anna couldn't think of any other moment distress had been more apparent on her sister's face. She was already on the verge of tears by the looks of it.

"Is that…"

"Anna, Kristoff! Are you all right?!"

Anna was already dashing towards her before she could register her feet had started moving.

"Elsa!"

The two riders touched ground and rushed to meet her; Anna sank in Elsa's arms and held unto her for dear life.

"Yeah, everyone's okay. I think," Anna started when she finally pulled away and enveloped Garret in a hug too. She couldn't decide what was craziest: what she had to say, or that Elsa was apparently not involved in it. "The lights went out, then there were these absolutely huge waves and then a _storm_ decides to join the fun and we end up with a freaking—Wait, what am I doing? Where the heck were you two? I was worried to death!"

Elsa and Garret exchanged a quick look. "It's a long story."

"I have time," Anna said, crossing her arms. She wasn't angry at her sister—that would come later—but she was definitely annoyed.

"Anna, please. Is everyone okay?"

"We'll take care of the flaming kingdom later, tell me what's going on." Anna could _see_ the punch of blasphemy land on Elsa's face and relented with an apologetic wince. "Sorry. Everyone got out in time, but we can't go back in. We already set up something of a shelter here. We're waiting to see if it calms down."

Garret glanced over the plateau at Arendelle's main square. "That's a big storm."

"I don't think it will die out anytime soon," Elsa worriedly said. "This corresponds to the four spirits. It must be their work."

"Yeah, about time we got to the weird stuff. So, Elsa. I need an explanation, and I get the feeling you know something I don't."

Another fleeting glance flew between the two ice-wielders, and Elsa drew a long breath. "I've been hearing… a voice."

Anna blinked too fast for her own eyes. "You're joking."

"We went to the trolls to know what the deal is," Garret added. "We literally just came back."

She wasn't joking. Anna tried to ignore the pull of betrayal that started gripping her entrails from manifesting too much through her voice.

"So, you've been hearing a voice, and you didn't think to tell me? But you told Garret? No offense."

She wasn't good at keeping her emotions in check. Garret tilted his head and furrowed his brows in amused confusion.

Elsa's hands rested atop hers and gently caressed her skin. "You had other things on your mind."

"Like what?"

"Like your own marriage. And the troubles of being my second."

"Okay. Good point. Except not. Elsa, you _promised_ you'd let me help anytime you'd need! We shouldn't keep each other out."

"It all happened so fast. We were planning to tell you as soon as we came back."

Garret nodded in agreement. "We were, Anna. I swear."

Those two were convincing liars as much as Anna was a quiet sleeper. They were being honest.

"All right. Let's forget about that, it's not important now," Anna said after a sigh heaved from deep within her chest. "Let me get this straight then. Our kingdom started whacking people's butts with its own roads because you heard a voice. Does that sound bonkers to anyone else or am I just a tiny bit crazy?"

"I have this feeling there's more to it," Kristoff spoke up. Anna had completely forgotten that he was still at her side.

"Yes," Elsa confirmed. "I answered a call from the horizon. Pabbie says the Red Forest's spirits want me to right a wrong, find some truth."

Anna lifted her hands and shook her head. "You were going to say something very different in my head. The _spirits_ called you? Then attacked Arendelle?"

"No. Well, yes, seems like they did attack, but someone else did the calling. I think it might be Ahtohallan."

The name from the afternoon's intense but infructuous library search. "Oh! Achtalolan!"

" _Ahtohall_ —"

"If what's calling is the same thing Mother and Father mentioned… Then, yes! You have to find it!" In that instant, the meaning of _find_ struck Anna's mind. To find something, one had to look for it. "Wait. Are you…?"

Elsa winced in begrudging confirmation. "I think I have to."

Anna waved a dramatic hand towards the city under their eyes. "Did you see what they just did to Arendelle?"

Elsa hugged herself and cast her gaze to the ground. "I don't know how I know Anna, but that voice isn't evil. My magic feels it. And it grows stronger every day." She must have caught the skepticism on Anna's face when she immediately added with a light laugh, "I'm not about to lose control again. Winter's still in a few months. But I think I must go. Find out who it is, what it wants. Otherwise, Arendelle will remain in danger."

Anna put a hand to her temple and another to her hip before lifting her eyes towards Garret. "You agree with her?"

"I can't _feel_ it like she does. But I heard something long ago, too. I trust her judgment."

Back to Elsa she went. "This is what you think is the right thing to do?"

"I'm certain of it."

She alternatively dropped sighs at the two sheepish pairs of worried but hopeful eyes.

_They're going to be the end of me._

"Okay. I'm with you. What next?"

Elsa's shoulders relaxed and her contrived smile widened into a truer grin. "I take the wagon and Sven. If Kristoff's okay with that."

Anna exploded into a burst of fake sarcastic laughter. "I thought I heard you use _I_ for a second there," she said, wiping imaginary tears from her cheeks.

Kristoff followed her immediately and chuckled in earnest. " _Wagon and Sven_. Oh, Elsa. You don't crack many jokes, but they pack a punch."

Elsa clasped her hands in front of her, her expression impassible. At her side, Garret narrowed his eyes, repressing a smile.

The laughter stopped abruptly. "You want to go alone," Anna said, her voice dropping an octave in comprehension.

"This is my mess to clean up. I can't ask you to come."

Anna quirked an eyebrow, the fire of her resolution burning hot inside her. "Are you trying to get me to monologue about the Great Thaw? Because that's how you get me to monologue about the Great Thaw."

Kristoff's hand squeezed Anna's shoulder in support. "We're coming, Elsa. Both of us. You're family, we can't let you do this alone. I'll drive."

Anna's hand darted to Blue and pulled the gleaming blade out its socket. "I'll cut the wolves in half."

"I'll entertain," Olaf's squeaky voice chirped from below. How he had followed the conversation was beyond Anna.

They all turned towards Garret whose half-smile hadn't budged. He arched an eyebrow, lifted a hand, and fired a spurt of shiny crystals above his head that danced around to form a floating short sentence.

_'Do I need to spell it out?'_

Elsa smiled and threw thankful glances to all. "I'm lucky to have all of you." She then lingered on the storm inside her kingdom with a sad but determined air. "Let's let Arendelle know."

* * *

The falling sun projected the faint shadows of creamy clouds on the ground, chased away by the night's obscure veil. The sleigh creaked and glided over the irregular soil, Sven's powerful gallops pulling it forward in relative comfort thanks to its advanced suspension system.

Kristoff was very proud of it and usually loved taking people on tours. But Olaf had sucked the pleasure out of this one—he would never have thought trivia could be so uninteresting before spending as little as twenty minutes with him on his ride.

"You're sure you won't forget to remind me?" the knee-high snowman asked.

"That's it, Olaf. I'll wake you up when I need more facts about how rabbits mate."

Olaf flashed a toothy grin. "All right! Night, boys."

He scurried behind and nuzzled himself between Anna and Elsa, who had been sleeping for an hour already.

Kristoff glanced at his right, where Garret sat cross-legged, a hand over the sleigh's rail, protruding eyes betraying his contained frustration. They waited five minutes for Olaf to start snoring.

"Ugh, I thought he would never stop," Garret eventually said.

Kristoff chuckled. "I'd take it down a bit if you don't wanna wake him up. He sleeps light."

Garret released a nervous laugh and let his voice go down to a gentle whisper. "He's making me dread ever having children, eh."

"And we didn't have to change his diapers at any point."

This time the quick laugh was much more genuine. "You're saying that but you're much closer to having any than I am."

"Fair," Kristoff said with a light-hearted shrug.

He'd never really spent much time thinking about the eventual children he could have; now that his marriage with Anna was underway, the possibility was starting to feel as heavy as a pan of concrete on his shoulders.

_Children, huh?_

They would have all the time to talk about their future progeny once they'd kissed on the altar. Among other things.

"I wanted to talk to you about this, by the way." Garret was giving him that weird _'I don't know if it's a good idea_ ' look he knew too well. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing it? Last I knew, you were still being all nostalgic about your time in the woods, all alone."

Straight to the big one, he always went. Kristoff wasn't exactly sure how much of his archery training was responsible for him being so direct when asking questions and handling problems.

While it did save time, it didn't spare any feelings.

"Oh, yeah, I'm uh… I'm not really over that yet. I think. Still hasn't hammered itself in, I guess."

"You do realize being her man makes you live in a castle for the rest of your life?" Garret uncrossed his leg and stood straighter on his seat, genuine concern making way into his voice. "Do I need to tell you how bad an idea it is to rush into this when you don't know if you're up for being a prince?"

He wasn't so naïve as to think that Kristoff hadn't given it any thought; he was asking rhetorically.

This was his whole life. _Anna_ was his whole life, now.

In the woodlands, with the trolls, and with Sven, he took the habit of always stepping away whenever things got too stifling. He needed to learn to bypass that sensation and be something else, something more; even if it meant lying to her at the start.

"It'll grow on me at one point. Can't be that hard to put on a suit and a smile."

"You'd rather stay inside and play nice in front of fat politicians than ride outside like you used to?"

Kristoff's insides twisted in anticipated disgust. His problem wasn't with politics and aristocracy themselves; it was with entitlement. While Elsa and Anna had obviously lived luxurious—albeit lonely—lives, they didn't take anything for granted, and they thought of the people first.

Not like some of the men that came to their court. He despised those so much it was unbearable to stand in the same room as they did. Children born of pomp and useless splendor who couldn't shake their bottoms to pour their own water.

The answer was clear; he'd much rather spend time in the wilderness than in cushioned seats, trying to decipher whether Count Dumbnut really agreed with Marquess McTight or if they had both liked the punch.

"Even when you put it like that—"

"You'd rather shake hands with someone who always had his meals cooked for him rather than hunt your own in a dark and broody mountain forest?"

"Oh, come on. You're making me sound like a savage."

Garret arched an eyebrow and lifted a finger to his chin. "Oh Lord, am I?"

He was making fun of him. Obviously.

"You're an idiot," Kristoff said with a playful push on his companion's shoulder. "It'll be fine. I'll be with Anna. Nothing else matters." Garret was too silent. Kristoff could guess what expression he was displaying without even looking. "What?"

"You're going to need one hell of a hobby. Maybe two."

The first years would be tough. But all of it—all that struggle—he'd do it, for a lifetime and more. She was worth it.

"I'll do fine. Right, Sven?"

The whinny that followed wasn't overly enthusiastic; the poor animal probably was too tired from the day-long trip.

"You're counting on your reindeer for your marriage." Garret whistled in the open. "I would talk to her about it if I were you. You're obviously a good match, just need to sort that out."

"We'll see about that. You don't get to lecture me though. When _you_ get around, you'll be worse off than I am. Talk about getting the short end of the stick. Rather be prince than king."

Garret narrowed his eyes in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, G. I'm not a genius but I'm not blind either. Everyone can see you and Elsa are getting all kinds of close."

"Are we now?"

"I bet even the portraits in the hall roll their eyes when you're alone." They chuckled together, but Garret's gaze remained steady. "What, no coy denial? No subtle blush under the hardened face? I can't tell if it's the sun or your hair but I can see some red on those cheeks."

"Why refute the obvious?" Garret asked with a shrug. "We did get close. But not _that_ close."

"Any reason?"

Garret turned to the sleigh's back, where Anna and Elsa were peacefully swimming in dreams in a tight embrace. "She's not ready."

"Oh. Did you at least…"

He didn't know where he was going with that question, and he didn't want to know. Judging by the wide eyes on his face, Garret didn't either.

"Really? You want to know that about your future sister-in-law?"

The lump in Kristoff's throat pulsed harder. "Ugh, spirits. Please don't answer that. Forget I even asked."

Garret sat in silence for a few minutes, eventually releasing a resigned sigh. "We did kiss once though."

That was good news. And nothing short of a prowess. Kristoff had been certain Elsa wasn't one for romance at all.

"Oh, progress!"

"Yeah, no. It was at the literal beginning. Kind of a promise, I think?"

"Long ago?"

"Two years."

_Oh. That's a long time._

Kristoff tightened his grasp around his reins. He was going through some sort of a trial, but apparently so was Garret. "You've been waiting for two years?"

"She's worth it," he said quietly.

Kristoff chortled.

 _You're royally screwed, my friend. Once love bites, it never lets go,_ he thought.

In many ways, they were very similar. It felt nice to know someone else was trying to sort through their own conflicting feelings too.

"When do you think she'll… be _ready?"_ Kristoff asked.

"I don't know. She can take her time."

It felt nice, but he couldn't be too optimistic. He had to keep it real with Garret, even if it meant giving him an honest warning. That was a dangerous slope.

"What if you're not there by then? What if it's in thirty years? I don't know, seems like a huge gamble. Good for you, though. Hardly ever heard of anything more romantic. Then again, I'm far from being a love expert."

The dejected frown Garret flashed was a sad sight. "She's not a very talkative girl, is she?"

"Give her some credit, she did get better."

"True." Garret's features softened into a fond beam. "Still can't believe it took me almost two years to learn that her favorite dish is lutefisk."

Kristoff shook his head and vehemently picked his ears—that was perhaps the hardest information he had to digest for the day.

"Excuse me, _what_?"

"I know, right? Two years? _Get it together, Garret_."

"No, not that. She likes lutefisk?"

Garret's expression went straight to amused comprehension. "Yup."

"You're telling me that Elsa, the literal Snow Queen, the most delicate person I've ever met, the embodiment of noble royalty, proper and dignified Elsa, likes dried raw macerated whitefish?"

That couldn't be true. That single piece of knowledge could destroy the entire image he'd formed of her for three years.

_Elsa eating lutefisk._

It would take a lot of time and willpower to take that image off his brain.

"It's more the spirit that appeals to her," Garret explained.

"Of course. The spirit of raw putrid fish. How did I never think of that before?"

"Oh, quit being an ass. It's a Christmas dish, no? Family, friends, gifts, chocolate? Even you can see what she likes in that."

He had a point. But still…

" _Lutefisk_ , though? She could have chosen anyth—"

Their playful exchange and his heart stopped when Elsa's faint voice reached them from the back. "Kristoff, please stop. I hear it."

Anna and Elsa were both awake, wiping eyes and fixing hair.

 _Please tell me they didn't hear anything,_ Kristoff thought.

"How long you been up for?"

"Around thirteen seconds," Anna answered with a yawn. "Fourteen."

Kristoff barely had time to snort in relief before Elsa jumped out of the sleigh and darted to the nearby cliff. She stopped and stood there, in complete silence, a hand lifted to her heart.

Garret, Anna and Kristoff shared a synchronous shrug and followed her to her spot; Kristoff couldn't hold an exclamation of surprise-tinted wonder when he peeked over the edge.

"Wow."

The surface of what he could have sworn was a ravine a few seconds before looked barely two feet far.

Most importantly, the Red Forest extended far into the horizon and out of sight from below them, the atmosphere filling with an oppressive pressure the longer they watched it.

The trees were a faded, shredded tapestry of autumn; the crisp golden hues, and the vibrant oranges that blanketed the forest floor he could see from a distance. Auburn leafy branches dipped into and out of the canopy and twisted wooden arms reached down, pirouetting from the overflowing trees in a shower of color, bringing a warmth to the biting chill that was beginning to settle in.

Elsa jumped down and ran without notice. Anna hiccupped in fear and took a step too, breaking into a quick sprint shortly without as much as a look back.

Elsa got closer and closer, but her steps seemed to trigger something. A cloud of heavy mist formed above her head and fell like a veil between her and the forest's limit.

In all his adventures, Kristoff had never seen something that oozed such an eerie yet mystical emanation. The mist scintillated a gleam that didn't even look like it came from the same world as they did.

By the time he, Olaf, and Garret joined them, the white wall had thickened enough to be completely opaque.

Elsa grabbed Anna's hand in reflex and gave it a quick soft squeeze; Kristoff was surprised not to detect any trace of worry on her. On the contrary, she looked… excited? Anna, on the other hand, was already chewing on her free fingernails.

"We do this together, Elsa. Okay?" she asked, receiving a confident acknowledgment in response.

The sisters walked closer to the cloud of clearly magical vapor and Kristoff turned to Garret with a small grin.

"Want to hold hands, too? That'll show'em," he joked with a nod towards Anna and Elsa.

Garret merely snickered and crossed his arms, his eyes turning grave. "This is way too early. We didn't even reach the scout camps. Ingrid and her platoon are supposed to meet us there in two days, but it's obviously going to be a bit more complicated if they can't even get in."

"They won't be able to enter indeed," Elsa explained. From behind them.

That was strange. She was still very much in front of him, her hand pressed against a purple wall that both was and wasn't there.

The way she whirled around and threw stunned glances at them like she had been surprised she had talked wasn't a good sign either. The group volte-faced in turn and was met by a hooded silhouette a dozen feet back.

Kristoff's eyes ran up the length of its robes until he had to use his neck to continue. Towering over them all, darkness within, and void beneath its feet, the shadow stood silent. The threads around it didn't look like threads at all; the garment was a fabric that seemed taken out of the sky itself, twisting and pulsing and glittering as if it was but a lens of crystal glass that let the celestial vault behind it shine through.

Kristoff sensed danger and cursed when he realized his crossbow was still on the sleigh. But everyone else thankfully shared his instinct; Anna unsheathed her sword with lightning speed, Elsa stepped in front of Olaf and readied her hand with magic, Garret conjured his bow and nocked two arrows on its string.

"Identify yourself," Anna boomed.

"Please, no need for that now, warrior princess." The silhouette had now used Anna's voice. It dropped to the ground, landed with a lot less weight than its gigantesque frame would have suggested, and slightly stirred in Kristoff's direction. "Take example on your companion."

It was something to hear Elsa or Anna speak from under that hood; it was another to hear his own voice break through the filaments of obscurity.

The question slipped past his tongue. "What's that now?"

"Always rushing to arms, these Arendellians," Kristoff's voice continued under the cape. Was that disapproval he could hear?

"You're not the one that called me," Elsa said, her tone sharp and dry. "Who are you?"

The intruder mirrored Elsa's voice perfectly again; and Kristoff had a feeling it did that with everyone it talked to. The stories with changelings the trolls had tucked him to bed with featured similar abilities.

"I believe you know who I am. And I know who you are, Snow Queen. What I would like to know, is what took you so long…"

"Answer her question," Garret growled, vapor leaking out from where his hand was securely gripping his bow.

"Ah, the wild card," the voice answered in an exact replication of his deeper and more accented manner. "Another unknown. I'm curious to see where this little group will take you, Snow Queen. When you reach me, you'll know."

And the silhouette vanished into nothingness, only leaving behind a trail of white shiny dust that dulled into the starry sky soon after.

A rumble echoed from behind them; the veil of thick mist split open, revealing four standing stones that bore diamond-shaped signs he had never seen before.

"We're going in there? Even with what just happened?" Olaf squealed, breaking the silence that had lasted a few seconds.

The assurance in Elsa's voice almost sounded out of place after their latest encounter. "We're going in there."

* * *

**Bonus: Whatever this thing is ;)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you for reading!
> 
> Gotta be honest, this was a difficult one for me, especially with my new job having me work 50 hrs a week. In terms of pacing and taking a new spin on what happens in the movie, I hope everything turned out okay. You may have noticed I try to skip scenes that aren't changed as much as possible to avoid redundancies. Modifications, yay! Adapting Frozen II is a more tedious job than it can seem, especially with so many little things thrown in there by canon. But as I told you and you probably noticed with this chapter, stuff is gonna change a lot.
> 
> Also, in terms of chapter length, it's been a while since my chapters started gravitating around the 7-8-9k mark. I know this is long, I know it takes time to go through. I really appreciate your continued support even more and I'm surprised I still have readers when I see the literal text monstrosities I put out. Thank you to each and every one of you who read, commented, followed, etc. Knowing this story has an impact only makes it easier for me to keep going!
> 
> Next chapter's theme is "Stone Language" by Klaus Badelt from The Time Machine. I never really insist on the chapter themes, but please trust me and lend this one your ear. Magical music, well worth four minutes of your time.
> 
> That's all I had for this one! See you next time.
> 
> Peace,
> 
> CalAm.


	4. Northuldra

Honeymaren crouched to the ground and blew the dust away from the umpteenth supplies sack she had to carry outside, her gaze wandering around the stocks they would need for the coming weeks. The results of the last season's harvest were relatively plentiful, but they still weren't enough for their ever-growing population.

The hanging silence reigning inside the tent was a welcome change from the previous night's lively supper. Getting to witness the elder's reunion was a rare occasion, if not a relaxing one. Discussing the Arendellians' movements certainly did not help tune the debate's volume down.

Her fingers shot up and massaged her closed eyelids. Sleep had been elusive for the last couple of nights, but not because of the noise—the sheer terror her brother must have felt and how powerless she had been…

Her mind and hand flew to her last hunt and injured arm.

The light burn over her forearm still stung sometimes, but the healers told it would heal correctly with minimal scarring. She trusted their judgment.

_Have to let it go._

She had promised.

But promises charred as surely as wood did under the lick of a scorching flame. If it hadn't been for that Arendellian, they'd surely both be dead.

_No use thinking about it now._

With another resigned breath, Honeymaren lifted the first sack and stood straight. The box's weight almost tipped her over when her feet caught up in a single thread of tissue torn away from the hut's cloth.

After holding back a curse and wiggling her foot to free it from the deceivingly dangerous line of ochre weave, she stepped outside. The early morning's warm glint and balmy atmosphere coupled with the faint chirps and tweets in the distance would have drawn a satisfied smile on her face if she hadn't just come face to face with a large grin and saluting hand.

Ryder was hunched over the fence at her left, racy and ready to annoy her, it seemed.

"Hey, Sis'! What're you doing?"

Honeymaren arched an eyebrow, already bracing herself for the dull pain that was about to storm her poor brain.

"What does it look like?" she answered.

Ryder leaned over the wooden barrier in an exaggerated attempt to peek at what her sack's content was. "Hauling heavy stuff out that hut, for a reason that is unknown to my poor ignorant soul?"

"That's it. You got it. Now be a good boy and let me work," Honeymaren deadpanned and resumed her walk to the small yard's corner where the day's hunting parties would later come to pick their equipment up.

"Want some help? That arm isn't healed yet."

For all the headaches, he was a good kid.

"Don't need help, but thanks. I was bored anyway."

He crossed his arms and tilted his head in another overemphasized display of both eagerness and confusion. "So, you'd rather bust your butt at work than spend time with your adorable baby bro."

Honeymaren simply shrugged. "Not really. This just needed to be done at some point, and if I leave it—"

"Okaydon'tcare," he interrupted with a quick wave of his hand. "Drop everything. Yelena called me."

"I don't see how that's my problem," she said after a quick pause and several blinks of disbelief.

"She called you too. After. In second. Afterthought kind of deal. But she called you too. So, I guess I should have said that she called _us_. It's dawn. Didn't sleep well. Can't think straight."

There was the headache.

Honeymaren sighed for the third time in ten minutes and brought a hand to her temple. "Why so many words to express such a simple thing? You asked if you could help, knowing that we had to go? Do you have any idea how much time you could have saved?"

"Oh, I know," Ryder said with an unapologetically mischievous grin. "I just want to fill your day up. I was told you weren't up to much."

 _Cocky brat_ , Honeymaren thought, although she had some trouble ordering the corners of her mouth to stand still.

"That copper tongue of yours is gonna kill you one day."

"You mean silver tongue?"

"I know what I said."

"Eh. It got me out of a mess or two," Ryder said while bringing both his arms behind his head.

"Didn't know you were that piteous. And Christian? Careful there, starting to sound like an Arendellian."

"Oh haha, religion joke. I bet you love those," he said, immediately falling into a pout afterwards.

Honeymaren couldn't hold in a quick snicker at how serious he looked _while pouting_ , compared to his bubbly and cheerful serious face.

"That's the Ryder I know." She hurried inside and moved one last sack to the pile of polished and clean hunting gear. She then dusted her hands while inching closer to Ryder, lightly smacked the back of his head and motioned for him to follow her. "Come on." He didn't object and fell into step. "Do you know what she wants to talk about?"

"Probably the idea I discussed with her."

She waited for him to elaborate, only to find herself staring into his smug grin once again.

"I can't read minds yet," she said with a shake of her head.

"A few scouts came back yesterday saying the Arendellians are patrolling around our spot," he explained. "They're probably looking for the beast's lair. I convinced her to give us a few men to find it before them."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. To suggest such an operation was unheard of on his behalf. More concerning, pursuing an angry spirit was dangerous beyond measure.

And not very clever.

"That's a long-ass way to say _Please punch the stupid out of me, Sis'._ "

"Wait, I got that wrong. We just have to find the Arendellians and beat the crap out of them before," he corrected with a mock tap on his own forehead as they strode through the mostly slumbering village. "Oh, come on. It's way more dangerous to let them find it. It was mildly angry last time but imagine if it had been _furious._ "

The rage of the spirit roared inside her memory. The fangs of heat diving into her flesh burned her through time itself, and her own hand shot up to her right forearm's bandages.

"We wouldn't be here to talk about it." She met Ryder's concerned gaze and immediately relaxed her grasp on her own limb. "But we're here anyway."

Ryder raised a hand to her shoulder and gently squeezed. "There's my fun-loving-but-still-kinda-serious older sibling. I just want us not to be burned to death by a creepy monster because the stupid foreigner thinks it's funny to poke it with a stick."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, passing huts whose progressively emerging occupants greeted them with lively _Hellos_ on the way.

Soon enough they were standing outside the largest tent in the entire village. Honeymaren knocked on the wooden panel hanging right next to its entrance and waited for the chief's approval to step inside.

A begrudging "Come in!" echoed from within and she pushed the fine-crafted flaps away to let her brother in.

"After you," she said, gliding quietly after him.

The little light that managed to pass through the fog was filtered once again when diffracted inside the tent.

The cold turquoise of its empty interior clashed in elegant harmony with the crimson of the twelve-inches-wide wooden columns. The drums and _fadno_ were neatly arranged in a dedicated corner, not far from where the only shelf and alchemy desk stood.

Yelena worked silently next to her cot, carefully folding her prayer to Horagalles inside her personal stash.

What residual heat Honeymaren had absorbed in the morning's sunlight was already gone; it had been her buffer, but unknowingly she had squandered it in a few breaths inside.

She knew Yelena always preferred chilly atmospheres, but that tent was a bubble of winter amidst the surrounding fall—she was only surprised that there wasn't any snow around.

Honeymaren repressed a shiver and sat on her knees. She then gave a quick and curt nod to Ryder inviting him to mirror her gestures—he snapped to attention and followed her down.

"Yelena," they both greeted.

Their elder turned around and gave them a warm smile—as warm as Yelena managed to smile, anyway.

"Is your arm better, Honeymaren?" she asked.

"It is. The burn marks almost disappeared; I'll just keep a light bruising."

"Good." Yelena finished rummaging through her morning's ritual readings and came closer, sitting a foot away from them with her legs tucked underneath. "Now, Ryder came to me with an interesting proposal that had already been marinating inside my head."

" _Interesting_ , huh?" Honeymaren whispered with a very light push of her elbow into his sides.

"It involves a hunter group tailing the enemy's—"

"I already got a quick rundown on it."

"Oh. Very well then," Yelena said, flashing a quick glare at Ryder all the while. She had probably told him to keep it quiet, but she eventually sighed and continued. "You two seem to be overflowing with initiative these days. The Fire is known to be quite impulsive, and an infestation doesn't help its short temper. The sacred grounds were off-limits for a long while, but now is time for us to step in before those goons destroy the entire forest out of sheer sciolism."

"Scio—what?" Ryder asked in a hushed hurry.

"Dumb," Honeymaren answered.

"Hey, I _really_ don't know what it mea—"

"It means that they're dumb."

Ryder's eyes widened then narrowed in quick succession as an _Oh_ of understanding slipped past his lips.

Yelena coughed into her knuckle to bring both their attentions back to her.

"You can take Hira's hunting party. Those four have had a few days to rest, they should be enough to help you. I'll leave the rest to Ryder."

"Thank you," Honeymaren and Ryder uttered in synch.

Before she could leave the tent, however, Yelena's voice called her back.

"Honeymaren?"

The tone was now a lot gentler, less official. The matters to discuss were more personal.

"I'd like another word." Honeymaren sat right back. "About Lieutenant Mattias."

"I'm all ears."

Yelena marked a pregnant pause. "Did he escape?"

_Of course, she'd want to know._

Honeymaren didn't even have to try to remember the relevant moments. "Ryder and I were busy trying to avoid the fires. He used our inattention to his advantage. I don't know if he made it."

Yelena's hand drifted atop Honeymaren's and gave it a reassuring pat. "He could've killed you."

"I'm not sure our lives were his priority. We all jumped into the river as fast as possible. We lost him near the dam."

"Near the dam? Are you certain?"

"It was in front of us, yes."

The hand retracted to Yelena's lap. "That is interesting news. Report back to me when you come back from this expedition. I would like you to join our next session."

That was new.

All sessions were free for the village dwellers to listen to but only the five elders could say anything. Normally.

"Why?" Honeymaren asked in genuine confusion.

"Because if what you told me is right, he was taken by the Nokk for his lies. If the Arendellians don't have Mattias anymore, they're going to be a lot more aggressive. We have to plan accordingly."

With a final nod, Yelena dismissed her. Honeymaren stood, bowed in respect and exited the tent.

Ryder was waiting for her, his back pressed against a nearby hut while he chewed on a blade of grass.

"What did she want?" he asked as soon as Honeymaren was close enough to whisper.

"You weren't in there for a reason."

"Come on, I know it has to do with what happened two days ago," he said with a clap of his hands. "I'm dumb but not that dumb."

"You're a lot of things, Ryder. Fortunately for the world and unfortunately for me, dumb isn't one of them."

"Aww. I love you too."

Honeymaren stared into his soul for a few moments, trying to decipher any intent of a prank about her answer—nothing caught her eye.

_Won't hurt._

"She wanted to know stuff about that Arendellian lieutenant."

"Did you lie?"

"Just a bit."

He put his closed fists on his hips and bobbed his head a bit too low for her to take him seriously.

"Dad would not be happy about this. _A lie's a lie, no matter the why._ "

The mention of her father drained her of any will to laugh the matter up.

"Well, he's not here, is he?" she said, her voice way too harsh for what she wanted to convey.

Ryder perceived it and immediately dropped the cheerful act.

"Sorry," he said, and he sounded sincere. He scratched his chin, visibly trying to find a subject to redirect the discussion towards. "We gotta find Hira and Birki when they wake up. I'm pretty sure we can head out tonight." He examined her for a moment. "It's gonna be okay, Sis'. We just have to drive them out, they don't even need to see us. Easy mission."

His attempts to cheer her up even though his mistake had been unintentional warmed her heart.

"I don't know why, but I feel like this forest is about to get a lot livelier," she said. "Also, you're the one calling the shots and that's concerning."

"Ugh, we'll do okay. Do you trust me?"

"No."

"Do you have a choice?"

"No."

He lifted both arms to the air and flashed a content smile. "Then no sense in worrying, right?"

"That logic of yours transcends my mortal understanding," Honeymaren said with a drop of her shoulders.

"Is that Maren for ' _Ryder's a god'_?"

"Shut it." They walked until they were at the village's outer rim, where no one could hear them. "I'm probably going to check on him before we go. We can't risk him joining his buddies."

Ryder's eyebrows shot up and his smile disappeared a lot faster than she thought physically possible. His voice went from passive amusement to open concern. "He just woke up yesterday. He won't be swinging swords anytime soon."

"Maybe not. Can't hurt to check."

"Your big heart is gonna kill you one day," he said after a sigh. "I thought we hated Arendellians, anyway? We really should have just let him sink."

"Only repaying a debt. Starting today, he's on his own."

"Tell yourself that." Ryder looked sheepish for a minute or two, then spoke so low Honeymaren had to prick her ears up to make out his words. "Can I come?"

Honeymaren couldn't contain an honest chuckle. "Let's move, kid."

* * *

Even though Elsa was squinting harder than she ever did, the veil in front of her wasn't getting any clearer.

She could only see a small green patch below her feet following her as she advanced and Anna's hand, stuck around hers like a bear's jaw on its prey.

"I can't see past my nose," her sister said, a distinct fear weaving into the assurance she obviously tried to infuse into her trembling voice.

"I can't even see my nose," Kristoff added. "And it's freaking huge."

"Did you know enchanted forests are places of transformation?" Olaf's sentence made her and Anna gasp. "I'm curious to see what it has in store for each of us."

"Where did that come from?" Anna asked after a panicked yelp.

"Below you!"

The muffled rummaging from her left almost clawed a cry out of Elsa. Fortunately, Garret's calm voice—he sounded almost annoyed—prevented her from giving in to her impulse too early.

"Oh, sorry Olaf."

"Good thing I took my crossbow," Kristoff said from behind her. "I bet my aim's only getting deadlier with the fog,"

"Tell that to Garret," Anna teased.

She didn't have to see it, but Elsa knew that smile was already growing across his face.

"I can aim fine," he replied.

"I call cow piss!"

"That's not…"

"If you're that perceptive, then where am—AH!" Anna exclaimed. A tiny _plop_ had echoed dangerously close to Elsa's ear, and she heard a ruffle at her side.

"Don't need to see," Garret said. That smile was now a toothy grin, Elsa could bet her life on it.

Anna was still rumpling her hair—surely massaging the point of impact. "That's not fair! I want your ears. Gimme."

"And I want to get out of here," Elsa added, shaking her head at their childish antics.

As soon as she finished her sentence, the weight of a hand pressed at the small of her back. Before she could process the embarrassment, the hand seemed to grow in size and covered her entire, then launched her forward with a strength that overrode her own walking.

Judging by the lack of tension on her arm—as well as the little shouts—everyone else was being pushed as well.

"Wow, wow, wow!"

"Calm down, calm down!"

The entire group was nearly propelled out of the dense cloud, the last tendrils of scintillating steam drizzling down their bodies to rejoin the bright mass. Elsa stared at the vaporous wall with wide eyes.

The slight opening sealed itself off and the veil stood back to its original impregnable state.

"Well, aren't we eager?" Anna said.

Kristoff dusted his sleeves and adjusted his crossbow over his shoulder. "What was that?"

Elsa stood closer and tried to examine it in more detail. Such a diffuse material wouldn't have been able to exert enough pressure to push such heavy bodies out of itself. It was obviously magic, maybe hers would elicit some kind of reaction?

She summoned her ice inside her right hand and shot it forward.

"No, Elsa, wai—" Anna started.

The blue gleam darted inside the wall… and immediately rushed out full speed as if it had been deflected by a barrier. The powerful burst of magic nearly missed her cheek and struck something behind her with a thump.

She then heard a faint sigh. Elsa and her insides turned as the realization of what—or rather, who—that was.

Garret stood tall, arms crossed, and face lifted to the sky, the fragments of her magic-heavy snow breaking down over it. He dissolved them away with a quick snap of his fingers, and slowly brought his head down while keeping his eyes sealed and lips pursed.

"Even when you don't do it on purpose, the universe decides I'm the butt of your jokes, I guess?" he said, though he sounded more entertained than she thought he'd be.

Elsa, however, wasn't entertained at all. She dashed at his side, heart racing, and frantically looked for the tiniest sign of injury.

"Oh spirits, Garret, I'm so terribly sorry! A-are you okay?"

She checked his face for crystal markings, his hair for any white strands. She looked once, twice in case she'd missed anything, thrice in case the panic had made her careless.

She didn't want them to, but the tears were already stinging the corners of her eyes.

Garret chuckled, gently grabbed the small hands that paced on his still cold face and lowered them.

"Yes, I'm fine. It didn't hurt," he said.

Though his tone was light, the light in his eyes was strong. Their green glint poured into her with that gentle yet unwavering gaze; he wasn't injured, and he wanted her to know he wasn't.

Elsa eventually relaxed, but she checked one last time—he wasn't the most expressive when it came to pain management. With a final relieved sigh, she tried the best she could to groom his hair back to their pre-ice-attack state, sneakily pushing his bang up a little bit higher than it used to be… which he immediately brought back down with a silly grin.

"Don't push your luck."

"I'll never stop fighting that thing," she responded with a light-hearted yet slightly shaking smile.

Anna put firm hands on her hips. "Great. We're locked inside. Let's hope there's a way to get out."

"Or we'll have to get used to red, I guess," Kristoff said, Sven bellowing in agreement at his side.

"At least the fog isn't covering the entire forest."

Elsa finally could get a good look at her surroundings.

The Red Forest wasn't just a name, and it still somehow didn't do justice to the panorama before her.

The forest hummed with life all around her. Elsa twirled about, gazing up at the canopy, searching for the birds that sang sweetly. Crimson rays broke through the cracks that twined the red cover above her, lighting up the dirt path ahead, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers and fallen leaves that crunched beneath her feet.

Elsa trudged on, taking in the fragrance of minty grass and the damp earth. Each inspiration was like water, fresh and cleansing, flowing freely into her lungs.

Her fingers unconsciously lifted to meet a rough tree bark, tickled by the light kiss of hanging moss.

"This forest is beautiful," she said once her breath came back to her.

Garret didn't look as enraptured if she was to believe his furrowed brows. "Well, you know what they say about frogs and bright colors..."

"Please don't lick the trees," Elsa replied without skipping a beat.

He immediately rolled his eyes. "I wasn't—ugh, nevermind. I'll go ahead."

He passed a chuckling Elsa and continued deeper into the woods, only for them both to be called by Anna's voice a little further to her right. After a quick exchange of puzzled glances, Elsa and Garret trotted to where the call had come from.

As soon as they reached her, Anna whistled loudly and gently pushed Kristoff to the side to reveal the scenery his body had been concealing.

Before them was an obsidian-shaded dam three hundred feet high. The mighty construct held up a lake the size of Arendelle's entire bay and merged with a broad span of Tuscany-blue steam hovering over it, making it appear like nature's amphitheater. The hollowness of the valley magnified all sounds, from burbling streams to the bumble of bees. The visage of the lake was veneer-clear and tranquil, flanked by an avenue of autumn cedar trees. Plip-plopping fish caused concentric rings to puff out and disappear as the air hummed all around them. A phalanx of flies was patrolling the water's edge, called into service by the fog-filtered light.

 _The view from that narrow walkway at the top must be incredible_ , Elsa thought.

Yet another panorama that would stick to her mind.

"The dam. Grandfather's papers described it," Anna said.

"Damn." Everyone turned to Kristoff, and three simultaneous sighs were heard, while Olaf exploded into laughter. Under his fiancée's disappointed glare, the mountain man winced and stroked the back of its neck. "It was right there…"

Elsa ignored his poor attempt at an apology and turned back to the greatest of Arendelle's constructions. "It's very majestic. They completed it in three years, apparently."

"Hopefully it'll last long," Kristoff said, having regained a serious tone. "Can't imagine the chaos if it breaks; the entire fjord could drown."

"The entire fjord? You mean, Arendelle too?"

"Yeah, Arendelle too. But this looks like solid work, it'll hold for a while. I still can't understand the location, though… Why put a dam there?"

"What do you mean?" Garret asked.

"If these Northuldra live inside, it does help concentrate the fertile soils closer to the habitable grounds, but stocking all that water upstream does them no favors in the long run. Half the forest will lack irrigation, and they can't use the river for transportation," he explained, pointing his finger towards the base and top of the construct. "It _is_ a good solution to urgent watering needs, but not much more."

Anna gawked at Kristoff with giant eyes. "Since when are you an expert in dam engineering?"

"Don't need to be a genius, just common sense," he said with a shrug.

Elsa stood closer to the cliff's edge, her arms tightly knit together.

"I remember Grandfather mentioning it was a gift in one of his executive orders."

"A gift?" Garret asked, sounding more surprised than curious.

"A sign of friendship between Arendelle and the Northuldra," Elsa explained. "Unfortunately, they betrayed us not long after its completion."

Anna inched closer to her and held her hand once more. "So, they realized the dam might not have been that good a gift?"

"I don't think so, they must have known from the start," Kristoff said, his eyes grave. "They can't be that blind."

The group stared for a few more minutes. Elsa basked in the place's eldritch beauty, only magnified by the jet-black gloss of the dam's columns and arcades.

Anna eventually released Elsa's hand and clapped hers together. "No use sitting here wondering about that now. Have to find that scout camp."

She then disappeared inside the thick forest with lively steps, Kristoff, Sven and Olaf following her immediately.

Elsa stayed a little longer, confused as to why Garret was so silent and grim-faced.

"You look troubled," she said.

He crossed his arms, not letting his eyes leave the dam. "I'd lie if I said I wasn't."

"What do you have in mind?"

"This whole situation is very strange. The _not-good_ side of strange…" he said, his right fist drifting up to cover his mouth.

He was right, it was a type of bizarre endeavor that had left her father's whole administration at a loss. She knew him to be a kind and voluntary leader, and Elsa was sure that his time inside the forest had been an enormous influence on his peaceful—albeit short—reign.

"I know. To lash at a new friendly country's first attempt at diplomacy is not something I would have expected either."

Garret vehemently shook his head. "You got it backwards. I'm more concerned about Arendelle's involvement."

It was Elsa's turn to be surprised.

"Huh? Why?"

"The poisoned gift is a strategy I've already seen before." Garret finally faced her with eyes tight in worry, the marks of honest concern marring his face. "That's how the Empire used to kickstart the colonies that didn't have a choice but to accept. Everything about this sounds dangerously close to that."

Something sank inside Elsa, crashing above her stomach like an anvil dropped from the top of her castle.

"Oh."

Was he suggesting that Arendelle had projected colonization?

That couldn't be it.

It couldn't make sense with how openly friendly they had been to the Northuldra.

She had studied the history of Northuldra and Arendellian relations. The first efforts had been initiated by King Runeard's father and followed upon by his son. A diplomatic relationship that new would have been dangerous ground to use as a vessel for dominion.

That couldn't be it.

The toll of war within foreign territory would be too heavy to bear. Unless he had used the dam as an excuse to scout that same territory, which…

_…is a very tangible possibility._

Elsa had heard the stories about her grandfather from her own father. He hadn't been ruthless, he hadn't been bloodthirsty, he hadn't been greedy. Why would he want a colony?

Garret seemed to perceive the intense mind exploration she was partaking in, and with a small smile put a hand over her shoulder.

"Let's not draw early conclusions, though. We don't have enough elements right now. We should probably go."

The tornado inside her head quieted down, its last gales washing the traces of panic away.

He was right. They would have the time to investigate the matters of Arendelle's past once its future would be freed from a potential catastrophe.

With a firm nod, she walked behind him, the minutes passing by in a blur while they traversed the now very quiet rows and rows of gold and scarlet autumn trees.

Across the first clearing, the laughs of a little girl rang against her ear, fading away as soon as she whirled around.

She could hear a few leaves rifling together, their scrunches and munches an insolent nag playing with her sense of direction.

"Something there? Garret asked.

"I heard a noise."

"What?"

"A giggle. The same one Pabbie showed me."

Garret called for his bow and nocked an arrow on the string, his eyes alert. "Is it a spirit?"

"I think…"

They stayed mute from then on, waiting for a spirit that seemingly loved to play hide-and-seek. They stood vigilant, watching for any small twitch, every little swish and whir.

Elsa's eyes jumped here and there, following an evasive shadow that somehow knew how to stay concealed in the corner of her field of view, hidden from her wary scrutiny.

 _It probably ran_.

Their acute observation and heightened senses were thrown into a frenzy when Anna's voice boomed from behind a thicket in front of them.

"Elsa! Garret! Come quick!"

Exchanging a sigh and vaporizing their magic, the pair hurried ahead and joined Anna and Kristoff on the edge of a slight slope that looked out into a large treeless opening, free of visual obstruction, and at the end of which Elsa perceived the reason why her sister had sounded distraught.

"You told me the scout camp was a mile or two outside the forest, right Garret?" Anna said.

"Aye."

"Doesn't that big pile of burnt ash look like it could be it?"

Elsa's throat tightened at the sight unfolding before her eyes.

A gigantic square of scorched earth, charred ash and calcinated metal surrounded what must have been a wooden tower of which only the frame now barely protruded from the ground, its strips of wood fused together into blackish molasses by relentless flames.

The veil was mere feet away from the area's limits.

"Oh, God."

"Please, no…" Elsa let out.

The mile they jogged felt a lot shorter than that; their steps were maybe more rapid from sheer anxiety? Soon enough, they were able to make out the blackened surface more precisely.

Garret's voice dropped an octave and sounded like a horn in the surrounding silence.

"I'll go check, you stay put."

"I'm coming," Elsa replied immediately. To his scowl, she responded with a determined nod. "Garret, please. I'm not waiting here and leaving you in potential danger alone."

"I'm coming too," Anna said.

Garret rolled his eyes but still smiled. He knew fighting their resolve would be pointless.

"All right. Full party it is."

The group walked closer and stood at the edge of the burned area, letting Garret alone trudge beyond the limit to inspect it in further detail.

He rummaged to the left, examined the remains of an equipment crate to the right, turned over a dozen burnt planks, then stood up while drawing a long breath.

"There was little doubt with the tower, but this was the camp. The veil must have gotten closer suddenly." He came back to them, his eyes grave but shining with hope. "Good and bad news. Good news, there are no bodies and no traces of blood, so they most likely got out of here alive. Bad news, they didn't pick up their equipment, so if they're alive, they're defenseless…" He clicked his tongue. "That damn Rutger even left his armor."

Elsa could now finally breathe, her hand shooting up to her heart in relief. "Thank the heavens. I'd much rather decorate slightly undone shirts than coffins. We have to find them."

"Is there a trail we can follow?" Anna asked.

Garret turned to the best tracker in their group. "Kristoff?"

"Not much. Sven isn't picking up any scent. This is old. But there's something weird…" The reindeer waved its muzzle and neighed towards its owner and friend. "He says there's another burned site, much more recent. Out there," Kristoff resumed, his finger pointed towards the lushest part of the forest.

Anna drew Blue out of its sheath. "Do we want to go there?"

"It's not like we don't have two snow cannons to extinguish fires or anything…"

She chortled and conceded the point with a quick tilt of her head. "Then let's be on our merry way."

Elsa acquiesced too, but her mind wandered into a gloomy void when her eyes fell once again upon the cinders next to her feet.

She tried hard not to fabricate the screams and cries of her own citizens, but her imagination was a bit too fast for her. They had been in danger because of Arendelle.

Garret's voice snapped her out of her morbid reverie.

"You okay?"

She gave him a gentle smile, and his shoulder a soft rub.

"I don't know, truthfully… But thank you for asking."

* * *

Honeymaren stealthily stood next to the rocky alcove's entrance, sweeping her surroundings for any suspicious movement. For once, stumbling upon Arendellians would be the lesser evil.

Fortunately, not a single soul was around, and only her brother's jerky breaths reached her ears.

She could call for him without delay.

"You still there?" she whispered, directing her voice towards the shroud of darkness inside the cave.

The silence lasted for mere seconds, and a deep voice answered her question. "I'm growing on you, Northuldra. Next thing I know you're going to be bringing me flowers."

Lieutenant Mattias' head popped out of the obscurity. He was leaning against the cold stone, his entire body limp and frail over the makeshift leafy bed she had confectioned. His near-drowning had been hard on him, but he was on the mend. Honeymaren was fairly sure he could now move on his own.

"Get over your head, this is the last time I want to see you," she said while stepping inside.

The Arendellian grinned. "Oh, and junior's here, too."

Ryder was _not_ grinning. "Call me that one more time and you'll wish that water had eaten you."

"Sorry. I just thought we were becoming friends," the Arendellian retorted with an exaggeratedly disappointed shrug.

"You saved his life, we saved yours. Don't look that much into it," Honeymaren said.

She dropped to her knees and put her small satchel next to him. A quick examination told her his legs were now rested enough to support his weight—the trembles and shakes had died down. He had enough strength to move around on his own.

She then untied the knot at her small bag's very top, allowing it to spill its content over the clean cloth—a chunk of dried meat, a small gourd of freshwater, a few pieces of wholemeal bread and two apples.

"Here, these should last you today and tomorrow morning. Rest. Go back to your camp. And hope we never meet again," she explained.

"Indeed."

He shuffled on his spot, his hands hovering over the little supplies they had brought him. Honeymaren stood back up, nodded curtly to wish him luck and promptly proceeded to exit the cave.

Before she could step outside, his voice reached her again.

"Why?"

Honeymaren turned around. "There are a lot of answers to that question. Be more specific."

The Arendellian's eyes stayed glued to the food at his side. "Even if I did what I did, why not leave me behind? You were in danger too. You could have avoided getting that nasty burn."

Honeymaren exchanged a fleeting glance with Ryder, quietly evaluating what to say.

"It didn't seem right," she finally said.

"Northuldra," Mattias called with a chuckle. He lifted his eyes so they'd meet hers. "Stop acting tough."

Honeymaren scoffed and exited the small alcove, Ryder following closely.

The return trip to the village started as uneventfully as their morning's stroll. Crossing the eastern parts of the Forest was easy enough when one knew what not to follow, and more importantly, what noise not to make—Honeymaren knew them all too well.

Which made the small ruffles she perceived farther to her right all the more concerning. A prick of her ears suddenly caught something that shouldn't have been there. A voice.

"Wait, Sis'. You hear that?" Ryder whispered.

"I do."

They both stopped, their wooden spears now unstrapped from their makeshift sheaths.

"This is way too early for the patrol. It's not even the right area."

"Hush. Be prepared."

The voice was drawing closer, she only needed to set up an ambush. The next instructions she gave Ryder with nothing but signs of her hands.

_Stay low, I go up. Don't attack until I attack. Run if problem._

He nodded in comprehension, leaving her to climb the highest tree she could find in the immediate vicinity.

She settled on the thickest branch, nestled like a hawk on her perch, scrutinizing the ground below her with a keen and attentive eye.

The source of the unwelcome noise appeared a few minutes later. A huge man with blond hair and a strange leather jacket was aimlessly meandering about with a crossbow hanging over his shoulder and a reindeer that somehow looked as lost as he was directly on his tail.

He unknowingly came directly under her, setting himself up perfectly. There was her opportunity.

She slid out of her branch and sliced through the air, falling towards the ground behind his back. She landed with feline grace, immediately stood up and brandished her spear, pointing it at the intruder's neck.

She could see the hair on his nape stand up when she threw a vicious whisper.

"Drop the crossbow."

His hands slowly rose, and he risked a look at her over his shoulder. She had expected that, there was nothing she could do about it. What she wasn't expecting was the small cocky smile that appeared once he could see her.

It was already too late when she realized what had happened. The cold of a steel sword's flat was gently pressing over her own shoulder—she could see the radiant glint of its blade.

He hadn't been alone. Yet she hadn't heard anyone else.

Who were these people?

"Drop the spear," a feminine voice said.

"Wha—"

"We don't want this to get ugly. Drop the spear. Please."

There was no choice but to obey. Honeymaren abdicated and let her weapon fall with a thud to the humid grass.

_At least Ryder's sa—_

"Maren!"

Her brother jumped out of a giant grove and dove towards the woman behind her.

But there were two of them. And he was alone.

The panic she had been holding back washed over her.

"No, stay back!" she screamed.

Ryder ran fast enough to catch at least one of them short, but the hit never landed. A hissing sound rumbled at his feet, and he was pinned to the ground in an instant.

With a puzzled grunt, he dropped his gaze and released a small cry of surprise. His soles were held together, encased in crystal ice solid enough to resist his attempts at freeing them yet clear enough to let his shoes show through.

"Please don't move."

The sentence had come from a third person—a very pale and strangely clothed platinum blonde woman with arms outstretched.

"What—What is this?!" Ryder exclaimed.

Honeymaren had one chance. She took the opportunity offered by the fleeting moment of distraction provoked by Ryder's appearance and darted down. She pushed the sword away with the palm of her right hand, using her left to grab her spear and pull herself away from the two strangers' reach.

She rolled on her back and kneeled, but another chill ran down her spine. Steam flowed above her head, and when her eyes lifted, they were met by the tip of a frozen arrow and similarly icy bow, behind which a red-headed man's gaze drilled at her.

"I'd listen to the girl," he said. "We just want to talk."

"You're Northuldra, right?" The pale woman lowered her hands and focused on Ryder. The ice encasings over his feet slowly receded into nothingness. "We mean no harm."

Honeymaren could not believe her eyes.

"Magic…" she said. "…from Arendellians?"

"No, stop!"

There was someone else? No, she recognized that voice. It was that Lieutenant.

"They're… They're friendly!" Mattias said, grabbing onto a nearby tree's trunk to avoid falling headfirst to the ground. He looked tired. Had he followed them?

"The arrow pointed at my neck disagrees with you," Honeymaren said.

"Not… Not talking to you. I'm talking to my soldiers," he explained, his breath still short. "I heard the voices and came running. Thank you for listen—Wait."

The red-haired swordswoman sheathed her weapon while her eyes grew larger. "That's an Arendellian sigil!"

"Yes, I have the same one," the ice archer said.

Honeymaren scoffed. "A bit young to be your soldiers."

The Lieutenant had not looked that grave since the encounter with the Fire.

"Who are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.

"Lieutenant Mattias!" the swordswoman said.

Those same brows arched up. He now seemed more surprised than Honeymaren was. "I'm sorr—Does this—Do I know you?"

The woman walked closer to him, a bright smile on her face. "Library, second portrait on the left. You were our father's official guard!"

"Your father's… Wait, you're Agnarr's children?!" The light returned to his eyes as comprehension fell upon him. "Then…" He immediately knelt, his right hand over his heart. "Your Majesty!"

"Oh, that's flattering, but my sister's the queen, actually. I'm Anna Arnadalr, First Princess. This is Kristoff, soon to be Prince Consort." 'Kristoff' waved with a nervous half-grin. "This is Sven, his best friend."

"I'm Elsa, Queen of Arendelle," the pale woman said as she stood right next to her sister. "A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Mattias."

The shock of having another Arendelle ruler inside the Forest pulsed inside Honeymaren like lightning. And it wasn't even the strangest thing she had yet seen; a talking, walking snowman had just wobbled out a thicket.

"I'm Olaf! Let me tell you a story of two sisters who bra—"

"It's kind of you but I'm not sure we have enough time, Olaf," Elsa interrupted. She motioned towards the arrow-wielding redhead in front of Honeymaren. "And finally, this is Garret. Who just happens to be a Lieutenant for Arendelle and my personal guard."

Garret gave a sharp salute. The ice bow had disappeared, but he still kept a watchful eye over both her and Ryder.

Mattias got back up. "It is my honor to meet you, my liege. And you too, new me, even if you don't sound Arendellian."

"Adopted. Long story."

His mouth stretched into a nostalgic smile. "Agnarr and the sweet little girl made it back… What a relief. Did they come with you?"

Anna and Elsa's cheeks paled slightly, and both their gazes dropped to the ground.

"Unfortunately, our parent's ship was lost to the Southern Sea six years ago," the younger sister said, her voice low.

Mattias drew a sharp breath. The pain barely showed on his features, but it was there.

Although she didn't have a reason to, Honeymaren sympathized with his grief. Just a bit.

"I thought that not seeing him again was a possibility. He was a good boy, I was proud to be his guardian," he said, regaining a more cheerful expression. "You both look a lot like him. I see him in your faces."

Anna clasped her hands together and looked like she was about to melt on her spot. "Really?"

Honeymaren could only stare, wide-eyed in puzzlement.

_They went from 'ready-to-kill' to 'smiles-and-laughs' a bit too fast here._

"There's an entire contingent of Arendelle's military inside this forest. We may be getting on our years, but we will serve the crown with pri—"

"Wait," Honeymaren said. She shifted into a more comfortable sitting position. "I don't know exactly what happened here…"

"Your grampa slaughtered us," Ryder spat.

Elsa winced and took a step back. "…we wish no harm. Please, understand that. I'm here to try and lift the fog." She put a hand over her heart. "Someone has called me here."

_Then… Oh._

Honeymaren was starting to get a sense of what was happening. Yelena had been correct after all.

"Was your ice there since your birth?"

"Yes, it was. Garret received it when he was older, but around the time I was born. I'd like to know why. Is there anything you know that could help us? Please?"

"I know someone who might."

The queen's face started radiating pure, raw hope. "Can you take us to them?"

"What if I say no?" Honeymaren asked with a lifted eyebrow and crossed arms.

Elsa was taken aback. "I… I mean… That wouldn't be very nice?"

Honeymaren repressed a chuckle. These people couldn't be killers. Except for that soldier, maybe.

"I have one condition," she said as she lifted her index finger. "Will the Arendellians listen to you?"

"Will they, Lieutenant?" Elsa asked.

Mattias nodded with confidence. "I'll make sure they will."

"Then, swear to me that they'll stay away from us. And that you're here for the truth."

Elsa clasped her hands in her back and nodded with a solemn air. "I swear."

Diplomacy and negotiation were not Honeymaren's strong suit. But there was a way to check whether this Elsa was lying or not.

If they had been there to kill her, they already would have. And if they wanted to reach the village, this test would prove it.

In her situation, she didn't have much of a choice.

"Great. Ryder? Go to Yelena, tell her to meet me at the lake, right next to the rose field."

He looked like she had just suggested to strike her with her own spear. "Wait, _what?_ Are you kidding me? We're just fine with this?"

"She swore."

"I swear all the damn time, that doesn't mean crap, damn it!"

"Calm down, kid. And go. She has to come alone, don't tell her why."

Honeymaren stood straight and discreetly twisted her ring finger around her pinky. He knew what that meant.

Ryder sighed, stared at the Arendellians in contempt, then rushed away from the small clearing.

Honeymaren threw an amused smile towards the newcomers. "You'll go with me. Not you, Butt Stick. You go back as we agreed."

Mattias crossed his arms and somehow looked even more serious. "I won't let my queen and princess alone."

"I'm with them, Lieutenant," Garret said. "And they can hold their own anyway. We'll find the Arendellian camp. Don't worry about us."

"You look like you're in no condition," Elsa added. "Please, get some rest. Tell the others that we came for them. We came to bring them home."

Mattias was at a loss for words. He relented with a quick nod and bowed his head in acknowledgment.

"Well, then. Shall we be on our way?" Honeymaren said.

"Lead on," Kristoff answered.

After a last exchange with Mattias, the Arendellians followed her into the woods.

Walking around with four of them on her tail was less stressful than she thought it'd be. The two ice-wielders stayed mute the entire way, but Anna, Kristoff and that snowman's chatter was an uninterrupted flow of often pointless words.

She would have been annoyed at it under any other circumstances, but Honeymaren was too focused on finding ways to elongate their trip without tipping anyone off.

Yelena had to reach the lake first—Honeymaren couldn't risk her glimpsing her guests and deciding not to show up, or worse: show up with the entire village. Ryder was fast, but the old woman not so much.

Half an hour was a realistic timeline—if nobody in the group noticed they were basically drawing circles.

"Maren, was it?" Garret eventually asked. His voice had startled her.

" _Honey_ maren to you."

"Understood. Tell me, why use a spear when you're obviously more comfortable with a bow?"

She turned to face him, her eyes narrowed. "What?"

Both him and Elsa were way too sheepish looking. "Your stance was rigid yet balanced. You're trained, but you clocked in a lot more hours with arrows."

He had a keen eye. Her father had tried to teach her the different stances for years, with little success.

"What makes you think I want to discuss combat training with a potential enemy?"

"Oh, you know. Similar trade. Thought we might exchange tips. No pun intended."

_What is he talking about?_

"Well, I'll be frank, I don't care enough right now. We're almost there anyway."

The lake was indeed not far. Honeymaren sighted Yelena's crouching silhouette at the water's edge, her white locks gently flowing with the wind.

"Yelena," she called as soon as she was within earshot.

The village chief turned around in a slow movement, and for the first time in memory, Honeymaren saw surprise flash inside Yelena's eyes as they crossed Elsa's. No, not surprise. Hurt.

_Maybe this wasn't that good an idea…_

The poor woman stared aghast at the Arendellian, and Honeymaren saw the twinkle of tears shine through her empty eyes. Was the sense of betrayal that strong?

She prepared to drop to her knees and ask for forgiveness while the guilt sank in, but Yelena's breathless and shaky voice was faster and broke the ghastly wail of the breeze around them.

_"Iduna?"_

* * *

**Bonus: Largely inspired by the Tangled official poster!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you for reading!
> 
> And I'm terribly sorry I've been this late!
> 
> \- Work has taken over my life for half a month (inventory season), then lockdown came (I live in Europe). Motivation was hard to come by, I won't lie. Spending all my time at home, alone, while having to work, didn't make for a good writing mood.
> 
> \- I was planning to use my last buffer for this one, but I wasn't happy with how it turned out, so I rewrote it from scratch. Deleting those 7k words was hard, but IMO necessary.
> 
> \- Also, I made the wonderful mistake of discovering Persona 4 Golden, and spent every waking non-working hour on it for two weeks straight. That was my bad. If you're in the mood for amazing writing (a bit unsubtle, I agree, but amazing nonetheless), good characters and plot, along with good gameplay, I can't recommend it enough.
> 
> I apologize again, and hope I didn't make you wait too long.
> 
> Speaking of Persona, the next chapter's theme is The Path is Open, from the Persona 4 Golden soundtrack.
> 
> As always, anything you have to say is very welcome!
> 
> That's all for now, see you next time.
> 
> Peace,
> 
> CalAm.


End file.
